


AceMalicious

by Ace1399



Category: Destiny - Fandom, Forsaken - Fandom
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-29
Updated: 2019-04-06
Packaged: 2019-12-26 06:52:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 26,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18278048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ace1399/pseuds/Ace1399





	1. POTENTIAL

AC-013 took cover in a crack in the ground. There really was no other way to describe it, the trees and other growth had all been destroyed by years’ worth of fire fights and low-flying craft. Craft similar to the skiff that hung imposingly in the air, a mere hundred meters away. This very same skiff had sent him racing for cover as his ghost screamed in his ear, “Ace! Enemy craft approaching!”

Ace preferred the moniker given to him by his ghost over the serial number etched into the metal chassis of his arm. But when panic struck, he defaulted to the serial. And he was certainly panicking now. There was no way that the skiff could have missed his dive into the rocky cleft. The burnt out stumps were useless as cover and the other brush was laid flat by the wash from the skiff’s in-atmosphere impulse jets. The alien craft was practically on top of him by the time he reached the point highlighted in his visor.

How did the ghost do that?

“Ace, they’re releasing hostiles!” Ghost warned. 

“I know,” Ace growled in response.

He didn’t need to check to know that he had a mere eighteen rounds left in his magazine. That was six bursts. Six enemies he could handle from his tiny hole in the ground.

“How many are there?”

“Eight.”

His eyes flicked to the visor area that displayed the radar that Ace’s ghost projected. They appeared to be staying close together, rather than spreading out to surround him. The four-arms were notoriously good with knifework, but Ace felt confident that he could handle one or two. 

“Wait,” Ghost’s voice cut through his thoughts, “Another group is dropping.”

Ace checked his magazine.

Still only eighteen rounds.

Ace had seen what happened to other ghosts who exposed themselves on the battlefield; something they seemed incapable of avoiding when their partner fell in a fight. One well aimed shot to stun the poor thing and the four-arms were quick to snatch up the prize. Those ghosts were never seen again and their partners’ bodies never got back up. Ace could not afford this fight. He was not prepared.

“Okay, AC013, how do we get out of this one?” Ace whispered into the stale air of his helmet.

“What was that?” Ghost’s voice, in response to his own choice in volume, took on a whisper.

Ace checked his radar again; the four-arms were still grouped up, but had begun to spread out. “We need a way out of here. I don’t think I can win this fight.”

Ghost’s silence was heavy. Ace knew that his tiny partner understood the implications of his statement.

An explosion knocked him backwards, slamming him into the rocky wall. Arc energy caused his body to convulse for a moment, threatening his grip on the pulse rifle clutched in his left hand. The four-arms were not interested in giving Ace the time he needed to formulate a plan out of this scenario. The grenade charge was the opening signal. Four-arm rifles began unloading their payloads at the edge of the cover. As dirt flew up into the air all around him, Ace saw that the hostile indicator of his radar began to spread out.

“Ace, there is more cover just 70 meters to the south.”

Bursting from the cover, Ace quickly targeted the southern-most hostile and pulled the trigger. 3 sharp explosions flashed from the muzzle of his rifle. The four-arm’s helmet exploded with a burst of visible vapor in response. The alien dropped to the ground with a cry and its companions immediately crouched down or dove to the ground. The four-arms didn’t have the ability to recover from death and, as such, had a healthy respect for bullets.

Ace capitalized on that respect, sprinting to the south.

A small rise stood between him and whatever cover his ghost detected. Arc energy flashed to the left of his head; a wire rifle blast barely deflected off of his helmet. Dirt went flying as other shots hit the ground around him. Three harrowing seconds later, the longest three seconds of his second life, and Ace could finally see the cover.

A toppled conifer. It must have been massive in life. The roots reached up to the sky in a macabre parody of of a live tree.

Ace dove forward in a roll as he crested the rise. Light-given Arc energy left a silhouette in the place left. Another wire rifle blast punched a hole in the space where his shoulder had been a split-second later. The shot did not come from behind him.

“Look out!” Ghost’s voice shouted inside his helmet.

He already knew. Ace saw the glint of sunlight reflect off the alien scope of a wire rifle. There was at least one pressed up against the roots of the tree. Ace made a sharp right turn right as another rifle fired from the base of the tree. This blast managed to strike his shoulder, Arc power tearing away the energy shield and dissipating before it could actually penetrate the physical armor.

Panting with effort, Ace asked “Can you recharge that?”

“I’ll need a moment. I’ve been focusing on charging up your grenade since our last fight.”

Ace wished that he could summon a grenade charge right now. It would be a quick and effective solution to half of his predicament. Thirty meters to go before he would reach the roots of the tree and his first opponent. “I hope it’s only one right there,” he growled.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t tell,” Ghost answered, “Shields should start powering back up, though.”

Fifteen meters. Fifteen rounds. At least thirteen enemies.

“Here we go,” Ace muttered.

There was only one alien waiting for him in the shadow of the fallen tree’s roots. It had dropped the rifle on the ground and armed itself with four small blades.

Twelve rounds. Ace wasted no time or energy on conserving ammunition when he did not know how many others awaited him around the corner of the mound of roots and dirt. A root exploded inches from his face. He didn’t need to look behind him to know that the others he had evacuated from were now at the crest of the hill and closing in. 

Nine rounds. One burst, fired blindly, didn’t hit anything. But Ace prayed that respect would keep the aliens on the other side of the small hill. He didn’t wait to find out and instead rushed around to the other side of the root cluster. Two four-arm riflemen were waiting for him. One shot hit him squarely in the chest. The other missed his face as the force of the first Arc blast knocked him backward a step.

Pain lanced through Ace’s right shoulder and the taste of copper filled his mouth. The smell of ozone and burnt metal filled his nose.

“I am so sorry!” Ghost apologized, “I am trying to recharge your shield, but the generators in this armor are not cooperative.”

Six rounds. Three rounds.

Panting, Ace replied, “Don’t worry about it. Just do what you can. Do I have a grenade yet?”

“Actually, yes! It just finished charging!” Ace could hear the elation in Ghost’s tone, elation at being able to successfully contribute in this moment.

He spared a moment of concentration on the energies that swirled at the edges of his consciousness. A moment later, he felt the tingle of energy coalesce into physical form in the palm of his right hand. Ace threw the physical manifestation of Arc energy at the crest of the hill where a pair of four-arms had begun their approach down.

The grenade hit the ground and burst apart into a handful of smaller Arc charges that immediately homed in on the two hostiles. Even as the two fell in crumpled heaps, three others opened fire on Ace’s position. However, respect for Light-given abilities kept them from charging forward. Respect would not last very long, Ace knew.

Three rounds. And far too much time before he would be able to use any more of his Light-given special abilities.

Ace’s attention fell to the two alien rifles at his feet. “Damn it all. Why can’t I get their ammo to work in my gun?” Ace muttered aloud.

“Wait,” Ghost cut in, “What did you say?”

“Nothing. Just trying to figure out where-“

“No!” Ghost interrupted, “What did you just say?”

“I just wish I could use their ammo. I’ve tried firing these damn things and I cannot aim the blas-“

“Hold on! Let me have a look!”

“What are you talking about? We don’t have time for-“

“Let me have a look! Now!”

The sheer commanding tone in Ghost voice compelled Ace to comply. Placing his hand out, palm up, Ace summoned Ghost forth. An alien grenade exploded on the other side of their cover. The tree trunk’s large girth absorbed the shock of the explosion. Ghost didn’t even flinch as it focused on the four-arm’s weapon.

“There is raw material here.” Ace could sense the excitement in Ghost’s tone. “I can do something with raw material. This one has Potential.”

“Potential?” Ace repeated. The four-arm grenade thrower peaked over the summit to check on the damage caused by their munition.

Respect.

Zero rounds left.

“I bought us a few seconds, but we’re all out,” Ace sighed, “Where do we run to next?”

“Pick that up,” Ghost responded.

“What? Did you hear me? I am all out of ammo. We need to run! I can’t die out here. They’ll get their hands on you and then we both will-“

“Ace! Pick that up!” Ghost commanded.

Ace’s visor highlighted the alien weapon’s magazine. With a shrug, he reached down and grabbed the slim case of ammunition. Ghost emitted a beam of energy that Ace felt at the periphery of his senses more than anything. And then, before his very eyes, the case of alien ammunition appeared to break apart and reform into a more recognizable able form.

Ace couldn’t believe his eyes. He turned the magazine over several times in his hands before frantically pulling up his pulse rifle. With a smooth, practiced motion, Ace ejected the spent magazine and slapped the new one into the receiver.

Twenty seven rounds.

Another tiny highlight appeared in the corner of his visor.

“Potential,” Ace whispered.

“Ghost?” Ace called out as he took aim at the four-arms making their way into a flanking position.

“Yes, Ace?”

“We need to give you a name.”


	2. MALICIOUS

“Mal,” Ace declared.

“What was that?” Ghost replied.

“Your name. Mal.”

“Mal,” Ace got the distinct impression of Ghost “tasting” the name, feeling it out. “Mal,” Ghost repeated. It was impressive how much effort Ghost could put into a single syllable.

“What do you think?” Ace asked.

“It doesn’t really matter what I think. I am your ghost, so you can call me whatever you like.”

“Come on, you must have some opinion. We have met plenty of ghosts in the City who have given themselves names.”

Ace could sense Ghost considering. Even though Ghost was currently in its incorporeal mode at the moment, hiding away somewhere within Ace, Ace could sense these things when they conversed. After a couple moments, Ghost finally asked, “Why ‘Mal’?”

“You’re pretty damned malicious,” Ace laughed, “Have you ever heard yourself talk about these invaders? You seem to have a vendetta of sorts against them.”

“And you got ‘Mal’ from that?”

Ace didn’t sense disapproval or dismissal. It felt like an honest curiosity in Ghost’s tone. “Well, you gave me such a simple name as ‘Ace’ from this serial number.” Ace absently rubbed the etched portion of his metallic arm as he mentioned it.

Ace hadn’t gotten to know many of the Exo warriors and citizens of the City, but none of the ones he had become acquainted with had any serial number. It seemed that only artificial intelligence Frames were given serial numbers. And yet, Ace knew that he was no mere robot.

“So, I am ‘Malicious’?”

“‘Malicious’ is a bit of a mouthful, but sure,” Ace laughed, “When you want to be formal, that’s your full name. Friends can call you ‘Mal’.”

“Ace Malicious,” Mal mused.

“Hmmm?”

“That is YOUR full name,” Mal declared, “A Guardian and their Ghost are an integrated pair, forever partnered in this union for however long as the Traveler and the Light deem fit. You are Us and so you are ‘Ace Malicious’.”

Ace laughed again, “So, Cayde’s full name should be Cayde Sundance?”

Without pause, Mal answered definitively, “Yes.”

“I wonder how many ghosts share your philosophy. Remember that one we ran into the other day who-“

“There’s a reason why we call him ‘Groucho’,” Mal cut in.

It felt good to laugh. “I am well aware!” Ace wished that there were more days like this where he spent more time laughing and smiling than he did ducking for cover and shooting enemies of mankind. Why does he need to take a breath to laugh, though? As an Exo, why does he feel like he is out of breath when he is running for cover while in the middle of a firefight?

“You did it again,” Mal said gently.

The ghost’s voice in his ear pulled Ace’s thoughts away from the track they had begun pursuing. 

“There is no point in chasing those thoughts down that rabbit hole. It will only drive you to frustration,” Mal continued.

Ace merely grunted an acknowledgement. Mal was right, he knew. But the paradox of being an Exo was as fascinating as it was infuriatingly frustrating.

“Sorry.”

Mal chose to materialize so that he could nudge Ace’s shoulder affectionately, “Don’t worry about it. I just hate for you to be distracted from a moment that you could enjoy.”

Ace followed Mal’s one-eyed gaze to the panorama stretched out before them. Ace had hiked up Felwinter Peak. Rain clouds swept in from the east around the same time that they hit the halfway point, but a few minutes of climbing placed them above the clouds. Now they were sitting comfortably at a cliff edge, near an old, forgotten fire pit several hundred feet above the Crucible grounds that had taken over Saladin’s former solitary haunt.

The rain clouds were so thick that Ace couldn’t make out anything below. All that could be seen was the handful of other mountain peaks that dared reach high enough to pierce the cloud cover. It felt like he was sitting on the shore of a massive lake of clouds and the peaks were slender islands.

Suddenly a thunderous explosion from below drew Ace’s attention away from the panoramic view. Some Warlock must have dropped a Nova Bomb on an opponent. Ace was tempted to drop down and enter the next match, but his eyes returned to the peaceful scene stretching out before him.

A smile touched his lips.

“Hey, Mal, do we have any pressing contracts right now?”

“Only those two House of Wolves Captains that you promised to hunt for Petra,” Mal answered.

“Odds are that Petra has several other Guardians hunting them down as well,” Ace mused.

Mal’s shell whirled a little as it considered. “Yes, but then they will get the loot.”

Ace sighed heavily, “Mal, we already have more junk than we know what to do with.”

Mal spun around and dropped down to come face to face with Ace. “Do we? Did we have enough gear on our last sortie?”

This sobered Ace significantly.

“That was my fault. I went out unprepared and didn’t bring the recommended load out. But you have to admit that we have plenty of gear in our vault.”

“You have only one or two weapons that Banshee would deem ‘worthy’ of a Guardian’s time. And even those could definitely benefit from an upgrade if you had some Alkane dust for me to synthesize,” Mal admonished.

“I hear that Shaxx is offering some pretty nice gear for folks who do well in the Crucible,” Ace countered.

Mal didn’t bother to try and hide his disdain for the Crucible. “You don’t need any more ‘practice’. Besides,” Mal’s single eye briefly flashed red, “Petra is offering some really nice gear to kill enemies of humanity.”

There was no mistaking the maliciousness in his tone.

Ace Malicious stood up and prepared to depart.


	3. TRIGGER

“This one will do a better job of killing things,” there was that unmistakable tone of malice in Mal’s voice, but Ace didn’t have time to dwell on it right now.

“How do you know that?” Ace had been considering between two different weapons that he had the Cryptarch decrypt for him. Today, he was field testing the two rifles to determine which one he wanted to keep. 

“Potential.”

“What kind of Potential are you talking about?” Ace was intrigued. 

“The Potential to carry your potency with the Light. It is how your weapons are able to kill Hive Gods or circumvent the Vex’s ability to warp time and space,” Mal explained, “Or rather, it is how a weapon in the hands of a Guardian is able to do those things.”

“So how does that make this particular gun better than that one?”

“At the molecular level, that gun is simply a better conduit for your Light. Every time you pull the trigger, your Light infuses the ammunition and becomes enhanced by it.”

Ace looked down at the rifle, at the magazine and then the trigger. At its core, it is such a very simple mechanism. He had no idea, though, that paracausal mechanics were also at play within. Under his helmet, disappointment played across his face.

“That’s too bad,” Ace declared after a minute of consideration. 

“Why is that?” Mal asked. 

“Because I don’t like how this auto rifle fires,” Ace explained, “It doesn’t sit right in my hands and the recoil pattern doesn’t work with my natural rhythm.”

“Oh. That is too bad.”

Shrugging slightly, Ace continued, “I suppose I could simply learn to use it. After all, that what I did with most of my earlier weapons.”

“Wait. What?” Mal was aghast.

“Yeah. You said they were better and I wasn’t really all that attached to any of the ones I was using before, so I didn’t think about it.”

“But now?” Mal prompted.

“Now? Well, I really like how this one fires,” Ace indicated the scout rifle sitting at his side, “And I REALLY like what happens when I shoot something in the face!”

“Yes, your cackles of delight were most entertaining,” Mal chuckled. 

Ace smiled as he looked down from his perch, a 3rd level balcony of a building in an unnamed and ruined European city, at the remains of a Fallen patrol group. Several of the corpses had the unmistakable purplish hue of Void damage. Even when laughing, though, Mal was a little frightening when he talked about dealing death.

“I just wish I could use the scout rifle instead,” Ace finally said.

“Who says you can’t.”

“If I am going to keep us alive out here, I need to have the best weapons in my hands. That means weapons that do the best job of... of... What do they do again?”

“They conduct the Light energy that you transmit into the ammunition,” Mal answered.

“Right. I need a weapon that does the best job of that,” Ace concluded.

“Well, let me consider this before you do anything rash,” Mal replied. “I have been able to improve certain aspects of your weapons and armor in the past by breaking down the Potential found in cores and synthesizing it with the appropriate materials. Maybe we could do something similar.”

“What do you mean?” Ace was trying very hard to not allow excitement to creep into his voice.

“Well, maybe it is possible that we could transfer some of this weapon’s Light conductivity to the one that you like.”

Ace failed to hide the excitement. “Can you?”

Mal materialized and turned to face its partner, “Hold on. I need a minute. This is not simple physics or alchemy. I am playing with an object’s paracausal potentiality.”

Ace set the auto rifle in the floor next to the scout rifle and moved away. Mal floated gently in the air, above the two weapons. 

A couple of minutes later, Mal announced, “It would destroy the other weapon, but I can do it.”

Excitement caused Ace to jump to his feet. “You can?”

Mal turned to regard Ace and admonished, “Do not get too excited. I can clearly see how I could transfer the Light conductivity potential from one weapon to another using some simple programmable matter, but slight differences in the paracausal mechanisms mean that we need a catalyst. If they were the same weapons, this would be quite simple.”

Ace’s excitement faded. “What does that mean?”

“We need something with Potential to act as a catalyst. Honestly, it will be similar to enhancing the weapon’s performance. How many cores do you have?”

“Four”

“And how much... hmmm... this weapon responds to Dusklight.”

Ace’s helmeted grin took up his entire face, “Plenty.”

When the Fallen skiff dropped out of the sky to deliver an investigation crew to look into the disappearance of their scouting party, Ace certainly felt more powerful. And he felt that power flow with every pull of the trigger.


	4. VENGEANCE

“Ace,” Mal’s unexpected, quiet voice caused Ace to twitch slightly, the sniper round from his weapon merely grazing the shoulder of his target. The former lieutenant of the House of Wolves dove to the ground, hiding from view and ruining the effectiveness of his Ace’s perch.

“Shit!” Now Ace would have to deal with all of the Captain’s compatriots. 

Normally, Mal understood the need for quiet when Ace was dialed in for a shot. There must be a pressing need for Mal to choose to speak at that particular moment. Unfortunately, the small wall he had been crouched behind practically disintegrated under the combined volley of return fire. Void energies swelled from within as Ace rolled away from the rapidly crumbling wall. He could sense the transition as his body achieved transparency.

“What is it?” Ace whispered harshly. He raced toward the duct that he had previously selected to enact his extraction plan. The building his target has chosen to hole up in had no business continuing to stand. All six floors of the building had been mostly reduced to rubble that covered the floor of the ground level. The four walls and most of the ceiling remained intact, but Ace would swear that he could feel the building shift when the wind gusted a few moments ago.

All things considered, a building collapse would not have been the worst thing to happen right now. It would help eliminate the great majority of the Fallen soldiers currently hunting after him. Ace had even considered bringing the building down on purpose, but he needed proof of the kill in order to claim the reward from Petra Venj. The plan had been to deliver a video of the sniper headshot.

“Get to cover first,” Mal answered.

The building was quite large. Several columns rose up at regular intervals from the floor to meet the ceiling. Small sections of the floor levels survived whatever had caused the majority of the collapse. Ace had positioned himself in the remains of a corner of the fifth floor. He suspected that this area had once held a pair of maintenance closets. The walls leaned against each other near the entryway to the still-intact stairwell that climbed the westernmost wall.

Ace could already hear footsteps in that stairwell as he quietly slipped, still invisible, into an opening to the air conditioning duct. It was an extremely tight fit, but Ace didn’t plan on traversing the duct. He needed only to remain out of sight long enough to slip out in the inevitable confusion. Ace felt the Void energy that caused his transparency dissipate.

“Ace, Sundance has been destroyed. Cayde has just died.”

Despite the gentleness in his partner’s voice, Ace flinched as if he had been physically struck. His helmet banged against the duct wall behind him. “Died?” disbelief caused his voice to break.

“His final death,” Mal answered.

In the eternity that was the next couple of seconds after the ghost’s quiet statement, memories of Cayde flooded his consciousness. He thought of their first meeting, Exo to Exo. He remembered Cayde giving tips to Ace, entirely in the form of amusing stories of bravado and stupidity, how to survive in the wilds. The image of his first cloak came to Ace’s mind, a reward for successfully completing his first official mission in a nondescript cave tucked away in Old Russia’s Cosmodrome. Ace’s hand reflexively caressed the hilt of the long knife Cayde lost to him in a poorly placed bet. That knife had a twin that Ace had won three days later when he bested Cayde a second time in the exact same bet. Thousands of small acts of kindness the Hunter Vanguard had shown him over the years of his Second Life, from encouraging support during missions that tried Ace’s patience to the breaking point, to counseling when grief threatened to break the younger Guardian’s spirit.

Exos were not physically capable of crying, but Ace’s vision swam as he stepped out of his hiding place. The blurred vision did nothing to affect his aim as he squeezed the trigger. White hot rage burned through him, into the rifle in his hands.  
Every round bursting forth served only to intensify his anger even more.

The six Dregs who had climbed the stairs to search his sniper perch fell with six sharp retorts. Stepping swiftly to the edge of the ruined floor, Ace looked down at the Fallen below through his scout rifle’s holo-sights. Four more flashes of light from his weapon’s muzzle and four Vandals fell to the floor with vaporous ether explosions. Paradoxically, Ace’s vision continued to swim as it centered with startling clarity on the Wolves Captain.

One thought burned brightly in Ace’s mind as Void energy swelled to an explosive crescendo and knives suddenly appeared in his hands, “Vengeance.”

Invisible as death, AC-013 stepped over the edge. He could no longer see anything at all. That fact did nothing to slow him.


	5. MEMORIES

Sitting silent and alone with his thoughts in the ruined remains of an old building, surrounded by a dozen or more dead Fallen, Ace remembered.

—————

“Hey, a new Hunter!” the Exo standing to the left side of the gigantic table stepped forward and extended a hand.

AC-013 paused timidly in his approach, unsure of how to respond to this metallic warrior’s greeting. This was his first time meeting another Exo.

“Cayde, this is AC-013,” Ghost introduced, “AC-013, this is Cayde 6, the head of the Hunter Vanguard.”

Cayde glanced at the ghost as his hand fell back to his side, “AC-013? What kind of name is that?”

In response, AC-013 lifted his left arm and pulled back the sleeve of his tattered jacket to expose the print engraved into the chassis: “SN: AC-013”

“Curious,” Cayde murmured and then, more loudly, “So! Your ghost has brought you to me so that you can be enrolled into the Hunter Vanguard, eh?”

Ghost answered, “I have read his traits and he is definitely cut out for the Hunter Vanguard. He belongs under your tutelage.”

“So, you’re saying that we aren’t likely to see very much of the two of you around The City?”

“Claustrophobia and restlessness are his key identifiers.”

Cayde suddenly turned to the two other individuals standing at the table, one was a terribly imposing man with a bluish hue to his skin and the other was a quiet woman who was currently poring over a ruined book. Something in AC-013’s senses told him that the woman was the most terrifying individual in the room. “Well there you have it! Restlessness? This Exo was REBORN for the Hunter craft.”

Cayde then turned back to look AC-013 in the eyes, “Your first step as a newly christened member of the Hunter Vanguard is this: Get yourself a cloak. And, Ghost?”

“Yes, Cayde?”

“Give this Guardian a real name.”

—————

“Hey, from one Exo to another, have you had anyone...” Cayde paused, “Whisper to you.”

Since they were safely in the new Tower’s hanger, Ace didn’t have his helmet on so his confusion was clearly conveyed to the Hunter Vanguard.

“Don’t worry about it, kid,” Cayde let out a hearty laugh. “So, what did you find at the bottom of that mine I pointed out to you?”

Ace found it hard to simply dismiss the emphasis Cayde 6 had placed on the word, “Whisper”. The way he said it oozed with significance and Ace’s expression must have betrayed his thoughts. The older Exo took pity on the younger Guardian.

“Most Exos come to me eventually, hoping that I can help them solve the mystery of their existence. And I will admit that you provide a very interesting puzzle with that serial number on your arm. You would probably find better luck working with the Cryptarchs than a reluctant bureaucrat like me,” Cayde clapped his hands suddenly, “Now, about that mine. What kind of loot did you find?”

Realizing that he had been given the one and only tidbit of a hint that he was going to receive, Ace answered, “Not much. House of Dusk beat us there. A handful of Vandals were overseeing a group of Dregs in salvaging the equipment. It was pretty much all nothing more than empty shells. Anything good was already hauled away a while ago.”

“Drat. I hate to send a guy off on a wild goose chase for nothing. Sorry, kid.”

A wry grin played across Ace’s face, “You could make it up to me by giving me a hint to one of your infamous ‘stashes’.”

“Fine. There is this one that I squirreled away because I simply couldn’t get all of the haul in one trip. Interesting haul because it contained some Golden Age goods... a couple rolls of cloth and some engine parts that Holiday would sell me to the Hive for.”

—————

“I must admit, that’s a very sharp looking cloak you have there. How about we take a trip into the Crucible so I can take it from your body?”

“If you do that, Cayde,” Ikora called out as she stepped into view, “I will feel obligated to join his team.”

Ace and Cayde both turned in unison to observe the Warlock Vanguard take the last two steps down into the Hangar entryway.

“Ehhhhh, never mind,” Cayde hastily responded, “Ikora! What brings you down here?”

“I need to borrow your Hunter. We need someone to deliver a message to Osiris and Ace is the most experienced at traversing the Infinite Forest.”

“Him?” Cayde’s exaggerated gesture and tone clearly conveyed his joking intention.

A dry smile crossed Ikora’s face, “Well, he is the only one available in the Tower at the moment.”

Cayde playfully shoved Ace away from him, toward Ikora. Cayde’s laughter followed Ace, “Go take your lumps kid. Everyone has to play messenger boy some time. Oh, and keep that cloak in nice condition for me!”

—————

Ace’s cloak fell to the ground as he stood. Raising his hand, palm up, Ace summoned Mal out of its incorporeal form. As soon as the ghost finished materializing, Ace asked one simple question, “Who do I kill?”


	6. CLOAK

Faster than light. The Traveler really did change EVERYTHING with its arrival in the Sol system. What every human had accepted as the universal constant for the speed limit of all physical reality, was rendered obsolete under the Light of the Traveler. Humanity was quick to harness the powers of its new found understanding of reality. And now every Guardian in the system used this miracle over physics like a plaything. Ace would use this miracle as a tool to enact vengeance.

“We will arrive at the Tangled Shore in four minutes,” Mal announced shortly after Ace activated the ship’s FTL drive.

Four minutes for a trip that would have taken 3 years for Humanity prior to the Traveler’s arrival. Normally, Ace would have spent the entire trip musing on this observation. Things were different now. Cayde was dead.

The Vanguard would not act.

The Vanguard could not act.

Ace understood their position on the matter. Guardians died their final deaths all the time, out in the wild. However, the City had to prioritize the protection of its citizens and the Vanguard was the City. 

But this was Cayde. And Ace was not the Vanguard.

Where was the outcry when Kaizyn died her last death on Mars in a Cabal ambush? There was none and it was Deoxys who took it upon himself to grab Ace and hunt down the Centurion that had pulled the trigger and the Psion Flayer that had destroyed her ghost. Where was the outrage when little Tansy was cut down by the Hive wizard on Luna? Ace had joined the fire team that hunted Dôl Arnách and exacted revenge.

Individuals. Not the Vanguard.

These Guardians were of the Vanguard, but they knew that when they took up any mission of vengeance, they did not represent the Vanguard in those moments. Ikora and Zavala WERE the Vanguard. They could not act, not even as individuals. And the pain of that fact had been made very clear in Ikora’s outburst that Ace accidentally overheard. Her outrage at Zavala’s refusal was patently obvious.

What was not as obvious was the fear and tortured pain that Zavala’s stoic facade attempted to conceal. Calm, logical rationalization was displayed to everyone in the room. Fear and pain that Ace could clearly see when Zavala said, “I refuse to bury any more friends.”

Cayde was the ultimate survivor. He may not have been the most skilled warrior or the most powerful Guardian, but if Cayde 6 could be killed...

No one was safe from an enemy that could deliver a final death to the ultimate survivor.

“We will be exiting FTL in thirty seconds,” Mal warned.

Ace merely grunted in reply and focused on his radar. The Tangled Shore region of the great Asteroid Belt was an unknown space to him. He had no idea what kind of reception awaited them, despite the intelligence Mal had gathered before their departure.

Faster than light spacial distortion abruptly ended as the ship shut off the FTL drive. Another ship was immediately displayed on the radar, not too far away. The impulse signature indicated a Human spacecraft.

“Who is that?” Ace wondered aloud.

Mal considered the various input from the ship’s sensors before answering, “Its the hero of the Red War.”

“The one who killed Ghaul?”

“Yes. Their ship is set to orbit that cluster of asteroids. Someone has tethered these things together and has set up a gravity generator at the center.”

“Gravity?” Ace could not understand why anyone would go through the trouble of generating gravity in such a desolate place as this corner of the Asteroid Belt.

“I don’t understand why either, but it appears that our friend’s ship has been here for quite some time.”

“Well, if the hero of the Red War is here, that must mean that the Scorn are as well. Take us down. I want to see these things for myself.”

Several minutes later, Ace found himself on the surface of blasted rock, inspecting the remains of an alien corpse. It appeared to be Fallen, but there was something WRONG about it. The color of the skin was off. The wounds, still fresh, oozed an inky substance instead of the normal bluish blood. And the smell... Ether had a very distinct odor to it and fresh Fallen blood would bubble with escaping Ether vapor whenever exposed.

“Scorn,” Mal declared, “They are corrupted Fallen.”

A hint of movement at the periphery of his vision drew Ace’s attention away from the corpse. Weapon readied, he moved quickly and surely toward the spot where he saw the shadow. A moment later, Void darts arced over a small hillock at Ace. He didn’t slow or divert his course. Four Void bursts tore at his shield and forced a slight grunt of pain out of him as some of the energy burned through his armor. 

Ace began firing even before he could clearly make out the misshapen shapes before him. They appeared to be Fallen, but it was clear that they were not. 

Seconds later, Ace looked down at the four dead Scorn at his feet. He squatted down and tugged at the tattered remains of the former-Fallen’s scarf.

Mal materialized as Ace pulled a knife from behind his back, “What are you doing?”

“I need a new cloak,” Ace cut away a thin, foot long strip of cloth.

“You’re going to several dozen of those if you’re going to craft any kind of cloak from the stuff.”

Hours later, Ace was back aboard his ship, sewing the last strip of cloth together. Mal materialized once again, considering the confined space of the cabin and then the pile of cloth in Ace’s lap. “It is going to take weeks to get the smell of that out of here.”

Ace didn’t look up from his work. Cayde had taught him how to craft a proper Hunter cloak. A faint smile touched his face, “You don’t have a nose.”

“Neither do you. Yet we both manage to have olfactory senses that work perfectly well and I know for a fact what your olfactory senses are telling you about that... garment.”

“You’ll get used to it. I told you, I need a new cloak.”


	7. PERCEPTIONS

“The hero’s ghost has been avoiding use of the Vanguard network, but it has been quietly sharing information to any ghost that sends a direct signal.”

“Oh? And what have you learned.”

“There is a faction of Fallen here that are genuinely friendly.” The disgust in Mal’s tone was unmistakeable. Ace got the distinct impression that the thought of non-antagonistic Fallen was somehow abhorrent to his tiny partner. “We should make contact with a... crime boss?”

Ace couldn’t quite stifle the laugh, “A Fallen crime boss?”

“Yes, well it appears that this... Spider individual considers himself to be something of a black market dealer,” Mal explained.

“That’s a far cry from the murderous pirates that we have come to know, isn’t it?”

“It must be some kind of trick.” Mal’s tone was definitive and uncompromising.

“Well, we can see for ourselves in... how long will it take to get there?”

Mal materialized, “You can’t be serious!” 

Ace turned his attention from the freshly sewn cloak in his lap to regard his horrified companion. Ace had to admit that the smell in the ship’s smaller cockpit was not pleasant. “You said that they visited this Fallen and recommended that others do the same. If we can’t trust the great slayer of Ghaul, who can we trust?”

Mal looked away, his indecision expressed in the wobble of his floating movement.

“We are already on the Vanguard’s shit list for this,” Ace continued, “We know that every time we take on one of these ‘side trips’ to hunt after a target.”

“But this is-“

“Cayde!” Ace hissed, “I know! And that’s why we need to be the ones to put a bullet in Uldren’s damn face!”

Mal turned to look at the inky sky of the Tangle Shore’s thin atmosphere. The ghost’s shell was nothing fancy to look upon. Both he and Ace were very minimalistic and didn’t favor the ostentatious colors and designs that so many other Guardians seemed to take pride in. A simple metallic gray and the standard ghost cuboid-type design defined Mal’s physical shape.

“We can be there in about ten minutes,” Mal relented, “We put ourselves on the far end of the Reef and I would prefer that we use a Sparrow, rather than risk orbiting the ship in an area that is more likely to be spotted by someone from the Vanguard.”

An hour later found the two back aboard their ship, carefully considering all of the information that they managed to pull out of Petra Venj and the Spider. Ace could sense that the entire experience had shaken Mal significantly. He held out a hand, palm up, and willed Mal into physical form.

“You have been uncommonly quiet,” Ace remarked.

Mal turned once again to regard the sky. “You know, it was easy to understand how Queen Mara Sov was able to get the Fallen to serve her. It was a shock the first time we witnessed them in the Reef, yes, but they have a code and she simply took advantage of that code. Besides, Queen Mara Sov was a scary force of nature. I am not surprised that it took a Hive god to finally stop her. And I am even less surprised that, in killing her, Oryx wound up exposing himself.”

“And?” prompted Ace.

“Before I found you,” Mal’s tone dropped to a whisper, “I traveled with three others. Ghosts who hadn’t yet found their wards yet, either. We enjoyed each other’s company and would watch out for one another. Then one of us found their Guardian. We were all of us thrilled when it happened, even though we were also quite jealous.” Mal paused and turned to face Ace, “Sadly, the joy did not last even a day. Fallen found us that first night. The poor Guardian didn’t even have a weapon. We found her in the remains of a park near the Baltic Sea. There was swing set.”

Ace didn’t need the ghost to continue to know what came next.

“She had no weapon except for her Light. And she was so freshly reborn, she had no idea how to channel that Light. Her ghost wasn’t any better. It didn’t know how to help her tap into that potential. I was the only one to escape because the blast that stunned us all caused me to fall into a stream. When I regained function a minute later, what could I do?”

“Hey,” Ace interrupted gently, “Remember Yor?”

Mal’s orb jerked violently in surprise. “You would compare me to that vile-“

“No. I would never compare you to that man. But I would compare him to the Fallen or the Hive.” Mal’s agitated whirling of its shell calmed somewhat. “Just as we Guardians can have a Lightbearer become a monster, perhaps we can have a monster become something not as terrible.”

Mal turned away once again, “I still do not like them. Fallen, Hive, Taken. Any of them.”

“You don’t need to like them. But perhaps you don’t need to hate them, either.”

The ghost made an attempt at humor, “What about the bad ones?”

Ace chuckled and he replied, “Okay. Hate the bad ones and tolerate the... not bad ones.”

As Mal dissipated into incorporeality, Ace could hear its voice, “I can manage that. Now, let’s go have a word with the hero. Their ghost sent me some coordinates.”


	8. TEAMWORK

Ace was not prepared for the famed “Hero of the Red War, Slayer of Crota and Oryx, and other assorted titles” to be so unimpressive.

The man, Ace couldn’t tell if he was Exo or Human or Awoken since they both wore helmets, was of average height and said very little. Honestly, Ace only said “man” because of the other Guardian’s armor, but it could easily have been a woman in that weathered gear. Ace recalled that Wei Ning wore armor that had been crafted for men because it was the only gear that would accommodate her towering frame. Either way, it didn’t matter in the slightest. 

Both of their ghosts did practically all of the talking during their meeting, up to this point. Ace had spent the time considering this Guardian that had become a living legend. They didn’t have the sheer force of presence that Saint 14 had radiated. Nor did this Guardian exude an aura of power like Osiris or Ikora. Hell, this Guardian was even a boringly average height; not a towering pillar of Light like Shaxx or Wei Ning. Yet, there was something about how they carried themself. Suddenly, Ace sensed it. Overwhelming focus. This Guardian was a trigger, pulled taught and ready to be unleashed. He understood now why the Traveler had chosen this Guardian to be the one to restore the connection to the Light to all of the others. 

“Listen, as much as either one of us wants to be the one to pull the trigger on Uldren, only one of us can be the one to do it,” Ace cut in on the conversation.

Both ghosts turned to regard him. Ace stepped forward, hands on his hips, and turned his head slowly to look at each of them squarely.

“I want more than anything in this universe to kill that bastard,” Ace continued as his gaze settled at last on his fellow Guardian, “but you were the one there when Cayde fell. You two were a fire team in that mission.”

“Three! If you count Petra!” the other Guardian’s ghost interjected. Mal winced slightly with a little shake at the exuberance displayed.

Ace ignored the interruption, “That means something. Cayde was my friend, a fellow Guardian, Hunter, and Exo. But at the end, you two were a fire team. What can I do to get you to Uldren?”

The Guardian stepped forward, closing the final few feet of distance between them and stuck out his hand. Ace gripped it firmly. Arc energy raced from one clasped hand to the other. Solar energy coalesced and flared in the air just overhead. Both ghosts flinched away from the unexpected displays of wild elemental power.

“Ahh, yes,” the other ghost began, “Well, it would appear that this ‘Fanatic’, Fikrul, has begun building up forces at a terrifying pace. His capacity is limited only by the sheer number of Fallen in the system, even the dead ones.”

“All the more reason to put this thing into the ground as soon as possible,” Mal retorted.

“And that’s the problem. We need to get to him, which will be difficult enough with those fearsome lieutenants of his.”

“You need us to thin the herd.”

“Even the lowest, most minor Scorn warrior is a serious threat. Fallen Dregs are kept weak by their Kells and Captains through reduced Ether allowance. Now, imagine a whole swarm of Dregs that have all the strength they need because they are no longer dependent upon consuming Ether.”

Mal nodded with a slight forward bob, “We understand. With the information that Spider provided, I already have a few ideas on how we can help you two to reach the Barons.”

“What do you have in mind?”

“Those maniacs are expecting you to come for them. You were there when they killed Cayde and they know that you have already reached the Tangled Shore. You will not be able to catch them unaware,” Mal declared.

“Only a fool would think otherwise,” the other ghost replied.

“Neither of you are fools,” Ace announced.

“We can’t draw away all of their forces, but the bulk of their manpower is commanded by the Scorn called The Machinist,” Mal explained. Both the Guardian and their ghost acknowledged this with a nod, “She needs those troops to secure her ports and supply lines. As I said, we can’t draw away them all, but a large enough disturbance to her supply line will get a lot of attention.”

“Sounds good. This kind of trick won’t work with any of the others, though. They don’t have a small army supporting them, so their forces will not be so easily divided.”

Ace spoke up, “I will act as overwatch support and do what I can to keep any reinforcing Scorn elements away from you.”

Mal nodded in agreement as the other ghost replied, “That really is the best you can do for us. And to be completely honest,” the ghost turned to its partner and they both nodded, “this is already so much more than we had hoped for.”

Ace unslung the Nameless Midnight from across his back and checked the magazine, “So, who is your first target?”


	9. DISTRACTION pt 1

“I must admit, I felt pretty damn useless during that Mindbender mess,” Ace whispered as he checked the scope of his Veleda.

Mal’s disembodied voice adopted a whisper to match, “I wouldn’t say that. You stopped that Wizard from sending in a trio- target should be in view in six seconds- of Ogres and more Thralls than I was able to keep count of.”

Ace barely saw the Scorn’s head before squeezing the trigger. He didn’t need to watch to know that the shot dropped the target in a twice-dead, crumpled heap. With a sigh, Ace replied, “Yeah, but it wasn’t like the fight with Araskes. That ‘Trickster’,” he managed to make the moniker sound like an insult, “had a lot more support than Spider’s intelligence implied. If I didn’t know better, I would wonder if Spider really wanted us to succeed at eliminating these Scorn from his territory.”

“I told you that we couldn’t trust him,” Mal’s whisper became a hiss.

“Hey,” chided Ace, “We talked about this already. You don’t need to like him, but...”

“There is no reason to hate him,” Mal answered. Ace sighted the second target, come to inspect the remains of the first, and fired once more. He was almost unable to hear Mal finish, “Yet.”

Choosing to ignore the comment, Ace inquired, “Where is the Chieftain?”

“He normally waits for patrol check ins inside the building just around that ridge. I would recommend a different weapon, though.”

Ace looked down at the Veleda-D in his hands, “Why do you say that?”

“The Machinist has been handing out Solar energy shields lately. You still have that Damietta-LR2 in the ship’s storage that I can transmat down to you.”

“How much ammo will we lose?”

“I can convert the Veleda’s ammunition to match the Damietta’s receiver without losing too much. You should have enough to eliminate the target.”

“Do it,” Ace decided.

A couple seconds later, the Veleda-D had dissolved into nothingness and was just as swiftly replaced with a Damietta-LR2 that materialized out of the same nothingness.

“What about the Two Tailed Fox? If we are going to be seeing more Solar shields, I may not want to roll into there with this Thunderlord.”

“I am sorry. We left that in our Vault storage in the Tower. It’s not in the ship’s hold for transmat.”

Ace couldn’t recall what he had stowed away, it had been such a long time since he had made any changes to his load out. “What do we have in the ship’s locker?”

Mal considered for a moment, “You have a sword that uses Solar. Converting the elemental energy from your Thunderlord’s ammo to elemental potential that the sword could use for powered attacks would not yield much. I am sorry.”

Ace wondered if he would ever stop thinking of his lost beloved Raze Lighter whenever anyone mentioned swords. He had actually spent a full week scouring the ruins of the first Tower, looking for the sword, about a month after the hero of the Red War put an end to the Cabal Invasion. “What else do we have?” Ace finally replied, “I don’t think that I want to be that close and personal.”

“I am afraid that is it. You have a bunch of Void and other Arc weapons up there.”

Ace really was not disappointed. Thunderlord never failed him as long as he made sure to keep it fed. “Then we go with what I currently have.”

Several minutes later, Ace was focusing on the building windows through the scope of his Damietta. He had found a stack of boxed equipment piled haphazardly next to a building wall opposite that of his target. He considered having Mal transmat down and switch in a helmet that would more quickly sync with the sniper rifle’s scope, but the Scorn Chieftain stepped into view.

A flash of Solar energy erupted from the Damietta’s muzzle. A second flash of Solar energy became an explosion of Solar power as the elementally charged round created a feedback overload in the target’s shield. The Scorn commander disappeared from view, but Ace held no assumption or belief that the one shot had put the target down. He broke from cover and sprinted toward the building. Sixty meters.

The sound of his shot drew attention from the rest of the Scorn guards in the area. Ace could feel the eyes train on him. Fifty meters.

Ace could practically hear the Scorn weapons ready and take aim on his exposed body. Forty meters

Summoned Void energies coalesced at his mental command as Ace dove forward into a roll. He would never grow tired of the sensation that overcame his body when it transitioned into practical transparency. Thirty meters.

Scorn munitions erupted all around him, striking the ground where he had just been a split second ago. Dirt, dust, and rock flew into the air as the Scorn fired wildly. They were not stupid and knew that, even though they could not see him, he was somewhere close to the buildings. Twenty meters. 

Ten meters. 

Five meters.

Three meters. 

One meter. Ace dove forward again, this time leaping for the window. Glass shattered around his body as he passed, head first, through the frame. Quickly rolling to his feet, Ace felt the Void energy dissipate as he took in the scene around him. 

The Solar energy explosion had laid low several smaller Scorn inside. Scorched bodies twitched on the floor or draped over boxes. There was no cover in the building, though. “Where is-“ a sharp blow to his helmet cut Ace’s question short.

Ace rolled with the blow, allowing the force of the strike to send him flying away from his assailant. Spinning as he rolled, Ace started to shoulder the Damietta in preference for the Nameless Midnight, but he noticed the telltale orange glow of a recharged elemental shield. His mad dash had taken longer than he hoped. But he was now too close for the sniper.

“Mal! Thunderlord!” Ace screamed silently in his head. 

Ace dropped the sniper rifle and Mal pulled the weapon into the same incorporeal space that it inhabited when not in physical form. A second later, Ace felt the comfortable weight of his trusted Thunderlord materialize into his hands. He had been backing away from the enraged Scorn as it swung a large iron rod, shattering a small crate into splinters. Ace stopped moving and raised the weapon.

Seconds later, Ace stood at the shattered window and considered the dozen or more Scorn soldiers charging toward his position. Step one was complete.


	10. DISTRACTION pt 2

“The last time you attempted an entry like that,” Mal commented, “the window was reinforced and you knocked yourself out.”

“And when that happened, you immediately transmatted me out of there.”

“Yes, but that was different. We weren’t on a time table,” Mal countered, “Why didn’t you go for the window you had shot through? At least then you would know for certain that it had at least the one structural flaw.”

Ace sighed, “Fine. The next time I throw myself through a window to assassinate something that I failed to kill with my first shot, I will make sure to use the damaged window.”

“Thank you.”

“Okay, where is that command console we need?”

“Hold on. I’m scanning the local area network,” Mal paused for several moments, “There are a handful of slave consoles that connect, but I am having difficulty pinning down the actual command console. They all pass through each other and have redundancy connections. You’re going to have to fire one of them up.”

“You make it sound like this poses some kind of problem.”

“As soon as you touch a console, Elykris is going to know exactly where we are,” Mal explained.

An indicator appeared in his helmet visor and Ace immediately turned in the indicated direction. “Isn’t that the point, though? If she knows we are here, she will send her forces to come deal with us.”

“Yes, but we want her to have only a vague idea of where we are. If she knows precisely where we are, we will find ourselves dealing with an orbital bombardment rather than a large hunting party,” Mal explained, “Elykris isn’t Reksis Vahn.”

A shudder passed through Ace as he recalled his compatriot’s battle with the imposing Scorn Baron. Ace had to honestly admit that he was happy to let the hero Guardian handle that fight. He hadn’t seen a Lightbearer need so many resurrections for a single opponent in a long time. Ace had busied himself with cutting down the large band of Scorn, led by a pair of exceptionally large Cheiftains, that tried to follow the hero into Reksis Vahn’s hideout.

“Draw out the troops, not the missiles,” Ace muttered, “So what do you propose?”

“Well, I honestly doubt that we can avoid a bombardment. We need to present a larger threat.”

Ace reached the computer console indicated in his helmet’s HUD. It stood out in the open next to a large transmat generator and pad. He made no move to touch the device, “How much is this going to hurt?”

“Elykris cannot risk the command console, but these?” Mal paused for a long moment, “If you’re fast enough, it may not even hurt at all.”

“Mal?”

“Yes?”

“Queue up the Ridgerunner.”

“Oh! The one with the transmat preloader module installed? Consider it done.”

A minute later, Ace managed to barely escape the bombardment’s blast radius, his sparrow’s engine screaming as he held the throttle down in open position with all of his strength. Ridgerunner wasn’t anything fancy to look at, but it never allowed Ace to be late for an appointment.

“Did you get what you need?”

“Yes,” Mal conformed, “We now have the command console’s location. Let’s hit two more slave consoles to get as much attention as possible. This one,” a new indicator appeared in Ace’s view, “may draw out forces occupying the fuel supply depot nearest to her main base.”

“Do we have to spend as much time AT the console this time? I would prefer not to cut it as close.”

“If we merely activate the console without running any commands or queries, she may not consider it a serious threat,” Mal warned.

Ace sighed. His new cloak was actually singed, they had cut their escape that close. Even though Guardians could be revived by their partner ghosts, Ace did not like dying. Death usually involved a lot of very real and excruciating pain leading up to it. “Fine.”

Several minutes later, Ace wished that he had the Two Tailed Fox at his disposal. The command console sat activated at his side and he saw two extremely large groups moving in on his location. The computer had disabled the Ketch and three Skiffs owned by The Machinist. Both of the groups moving toward Ace, each several hundred meters away but easily seen on the flat plain of the massive asteroid, were comprised of several other detachments. The fuel supply depot soldiers joined up with the regular patrol groups that had swept up and brought along the entire contingent assigned to working the dock. And that was just on the one side.

A couple well placed rockets would do wonders against an enemy force that had bunched itself up like that.

Mal quipped, “Well, we certainly got their attention. What do you think?”

Ace had already used much of the Thunderlord’s ammunition getting to this point. Elykris had many more powerful Scorn serving her than the two had anticipated. However, Ace did see one option for neatly handling one of the groups. It would definitely give him a fighting chance in the face of these overwhelming odds.

Cayde had been right when he warned Ace about the addictive danger of reaching into the Void. Titans and Warlocks merely summoned the Void energy into a point near or around their bodies. Hunters who used the Void had to channel the energy into themselves and allow it to infuse their entire being. The exhilaration of being infused with the energy of nothingness was unexplainable. Knowing the danger, it was both with great reluctance and incredible anticipation that Ace willed the Light to burst forth.

Mal had once asked him to explain what wielding the Light was like. “It’s not like I summon it,” Ace began, “More like I simply release it. It feels like I have been containing it, holding it back while it builds up from within. And when I am ready to use it, I just... stop holding it back and the power manifests.”

This time, the power of the Light manifested as a tiny, terrible explosion that seemed to rip a hole in reality. Ace thrust his hand into that hole and felt Void power flood through that hand, up into the rest of his body. As he began to pull his hand back out of the hole, the Void energy swelled and then swiftly flowed down his arms and gathered into his hands as vestiges of Void power swirled about his body. It all happened in a mere blink of an eye, but felt like an exquisite eternity to the Exo Nightstalker.

The elemental energy that gathered into the palms of his hands allowed him to hold onto and wield the bow of shadow that Ace pulled out from the nothingness. To actually touch the bow itself was suicidal. It was concentrated, undiluted nothingness and contact with it brought only madness.

Ace never grew tired of Wielding the Light. He feared he would never grow tired of reaching into the Void.


	11. DISTRACTION pt 3

“Nice,” Ace could hear the awe in Mal’s voice as the ghost observed the placement of the shadowshot.

A large Scorn Raider was obliterated into nothingness by the sheer Void energy striking its chest. The doomed Scorn had not been in the leading ranks; rather it was a couple meters behind the front row. Now it was simply gone and in its place, Void power exploded as tendrils of the elemental energy burst forth to latch on to anything nearby. The tendrils connected to a pulsating orb in the center of the chaos, linking all of the tethered Scorn to each other.

Shrieks and cries of fear and confusion immediately filled the air as the Void power blurred their vision and made their limbs feel heavier.

Solar energy in the form of a single sniper round met with the chaotic mass of Void. The bullet passed through the shadowy energies without any hinderance and struck the chest of a crouched Lurker, narrowly missing its metal shield. The stricken alien fell lifeless.

The dead Scorn’s compatriots all felt the blow as the Void energy replicated, to less damaging effect, the bullet’s impact. Another Solar bullet struck. Another Scorn fell as, again, the experience was shared to all of those tethered. Ace, sprinting toward the tethered mass of corrupted bodies, grinned as he willed the Light energy within him to form into a grenade. A moment later, the grenade burst on the ground in the center of the tethered group, a small wall of shadowy flames burst forth from the grenade. Void fire burned all those Scorn closest to the grenade, and the tendrils of Void energy shared that burning with all the rest. It was too much for the greater majority of Ace’s enemies to handle. Between the two sniper rounds and now this fire of shadow, they succumbed to the replicated blows and collapsed.

The tether had connected several dozen of the Scorn. Now, only a couple dozen or more were left standing. And most of these opponents were panicking as they dove to the ground in an attempt to avoid the deadly Void energies. Many of them made for easy targets as Ace quickly swung his Damietta-LR2 to his back and pulled the Nameless Midnight forward into a ready position. He managed four shots before an Arc blast sent him spinning.

“Abomination!” Mal warned.

The massive, lumbering Scorn warrior had been hidden from view by the sheer mass of enemies between it and Ace. It’s slow pace kept it far enough back that it was well out of range of the tether. And it’s mindless focus prevented it from experiencing any of the fear or confusion that had settled in on the rest of the Scorn. With so many hostile enemies focusing solely on him, Ace knew that he wouldn’t have the luxury of engaging this monstrosity before he was overwhelmed. After all, there was still the matter of the other large contingent of enemies behind them. Enemies that were closing the distance very quickly.

“Mal! Ridgerunner!” Ace grunted as he dove to the ground, narrowly avoiding another Arc blast from the Abomination’s outstretched arm.

Ace only needed to make sure that these enemies stayed here and didn’t rush off to reinforce whatever opposition the other Guardian found in his push to reach Elykris. As long as the bait was enticing and appeared to be within reach, they would continue to pursue.

A small building housed the power transformer that fed the console and its accompanying transmat pad. Ace didn’t relish the idea of a power transformer exploding in his immediate vicinity, but it was the only cover available and he had pressed his luck enough as it was, attacked the first Scorn force out in the open.

Luck always ran out.

It was the most bitter, difficult lesson he had learned from Cayde’s death.

The sparrow materialized to the left of where Ace’s roll terminated. He wasted no time at all throwing a leg over the vehicle and opening the throttle to full speed. In fact, it would be a difficult argument to say that he was even “on” the sparrow before the thing leaped forward in a blinding burst of speed. Ace almost lost his grip at first, causing the vehicle to swerve unexpectedly, dangerously in the direction of the enraged Scorn Abomination. He eased on the throttle long enough to get it under control and then made a tight, banking turn away from the Arc-throwing monster.

Unfortunately, the time needed to get the sparrow under control and heading in the correct direction gave the Abomination time to direct an attack at his vehicle. It lurched once as an Arc blast slammed into the rear left panel, mere inches from the engine. Ace timed an anti-grav side boost to dodge the next attack. Having his sparrow explode beneath him would be just as disastrous as having that power transformer explode in front of him. Ace sent a silent plea to the Traveler and the Light that the building he raced toward would hold up to whatever weapons fire came his way. Another blast struck the right front panel, this one came from a Void wire rifle. He spared a glance to the right to see that the second group of Scorn had managed to close the distance much more quickly than expected. Smoke from the front of the vehicle caught his attention next. Not good.

“Mal!” AC-013 cried out over the sound of the Ridgerunner’s engine screaming. He knew that he needed to merely think “to” his ghost and Mal would hear it, but he was acting on instinct now. “We need better cover!”

“Hold on! There is a cave system just bel- JUMP!” Mal’s voice thundered inside of AC-013’s head.

He heard the scream of the Ridgerunner’s engine change pitch dangerously as he leapt from the vehicle. Mal’s warning had given him enough time to leap away before the vehicle exploded. 

“Thirty meters to go. I’m looking for the nearest entrance to the caves,” Mal made himself heard over the sound of weapons fire and nearby small explosions.

AC-013 raced as fast as his feet would carry him as he frantically worked out options to get them both to cover. The building might as well be kilometers away for all of the thirty meters he had left to go. AC-013 felt for the Light energy built up within him.

In order to debilitate tethered enemies, the Void tendrils siphoned energy off of those entrapped. That energy was converted into Light that often bled over into the observable realm in the form of bright orbs. However, special metaphysical circuits worked into a panel of his leg armor established a continued connection between the Hunter and his shadowshot. This connection, created during the initial Void swell, created an energy conduit that allowed some of that siphoned Light energy to simply flow directly back into him.

AC-013 felt the power swelling to a peak once again. Unfortunately, he did not believe a second such attack would be as effective as the first. Already, the Scorn forces had spread themselves out and only a mere handful would be trapped by the attack. The rest would not succumb to panicked confusion and would cut him down before he could capitalize on the tether’s abilities.

But he did have one ability that he could utilize. A moment later, AC-013 was invisible and continued racing to the building’s cover. The invisibility didn’t fool his pursuers, it merely made him a very difficult target to hit. But they knew where he was going. 

“I found an entrance!” Mal announced as AC-013 slid to the ground. 

“Where is i-“ the indicator appeared in his helmet’s HUD.

Sixty meters away and out in the open. Pretty much in the direction of the advancing Scorn. Standing up, AC-013 could just barely make out the large crack in the ground that must open into the cave system.

Ace leaned against the wall and allowed his helmet to rest against it. “This is going to hurt, isn’t it?”

“The ship is almost done reassembling the wreckage of your Sparrow.”

Measuring the distance from the hole in the ground to the advancing Scorn, AC-013 remembered how close he came to being caught up in the same explosion that temporarily destroyed the Ridgerunner. Sixty meters from his position to the entrance. Forty meters from the entrance to the nearest Scorn. At least he would be enticing bait at those distances.

“This is going to hurt.”

“The sparrow will be ready in five seconds.”

Ace calmed down and switched weapons to the Damietta. He had a decent distance at the moment, so he might as well make good use of the next five seconds. Life was about to get really painful.


	12. DISTRACTION pt 4

Blinding, debilitating pain. Why does he, an Exo, feel pain? It made no sense at all.

“Ace! Your arm!” Mal somehow made his voice cut through the excruciating pain that pulsed and radiated from his right shoulder.

AC-013 turned his head to inspect the source of the pain. It was then that he realized that he was laying on a stone floor. His rifle lay a meter away from his face, still clutched in a gloved hand. AC-013’s eyes focused on the leather of the glove as he willed the weapon to move.

“Ace! You need to move! This is not-“

“Why won’t it move?” AC-013 mumbled.

“ACE! MOVE!” 

Bolting upright at the panic in Mal’s voice, AC-013 left the rock floor. The Damietta-LR2 and the hand holding it remained on the floor. AC-013 looked back to the gloved hand. The hand refused to budge no matter how much he moved his arm.

Wait. His arm.

“ACE!!!!”

Mal’s voice made AC-013 flinch. It wasn’t enough to prevent the wire rifle bolt from finding his left shoulder. The force of the impact spun him around, back onto the floor. However, AC-013 did not allow himself to remain on the rocky surface this time. Scrambling to his feet with only one hand was made infinitely more difficult with the overwhelming pain causing his senses to shut out anything and everything that was not the pain coming from his right shoulder. 

Mal chose to materialize at that moment, hovering in front of the wounded Guardian’s face. “Ace!” the ghost’s voice screamed both inside of his head and in his ears, “You need to mo-“

A Void energy blast from a line rifle slammed into the small, floating orb. Mal’s voice cut short and the light in its singular eye went dead. Inert, the tiny thing fell with a metallic clatter onto the rocky ground. Reality returned with sharp clarity. AC-013 knew exactly what this meant and he finally registered what his small companion had been trying to get him to do. AC-013 moved.

Ignoring the pain that now suffused his entire body, no longer seeming to only exist in his shoulder, AC-013 threw his body forward. He attempted to dive into a roll over his stunned companion so that he might retrieve it. His left hand grasped the cuboid as the roll forward placed his feet below him. Another Scorn rifle blast tore through his lower back, AC-013 refused to allow the blast to deter him from his chosen path.

Unfortunately, his body had already taken far too much abuse. As his right leg took the first step away from the center of the cave, AC-013’s hand shuddered. Weakness overcame the entire arm and, with another metallic clatter, Mal fell once again to the ground.

Another Guardian would most likely have stopped to try to pick up their stunned ghost. Another Guardian would have been cut down by the Scorn riflemen perching around the hole in the cave ceiling. AC-013 was a survivor and he knew that the only way to survive this moment was to move. That is what Mal told him to do, wasn’t it?

It was difficult to see anything beyond the middle of the room, the area of the cave that was illuminated by the scant light that managed to come through the hole above, but AC-013 made out a darker shadow that gave the impression of an exit to another area of the complex. Likely a tunnel or another cave. His eyes flicked to the corner of his visor where the radar normally resided. With Mal inert, there was no extra information displayed in his view.

AC-013 decided to try his luck and threw himself into the blackness. He took solace in the knowledge that he had contributed to avenging Cayde’s death. Six Barons were dead now, thanks in large part to his aid given to the Vanguard’s hero Guardian. He couldn’t see any way out of this situation.

Looking back to the center of the cavern, AC-013 could clearly see his arm laying in the pool of dim light. A large piece of fuselage from his sparrow lay on the ground next to the sheered end of his upper arm. AC-013 suddenly recalled what had happened to his arm.

Since Scorn were essentially nothing more than Fallen who had been brought back from the dead, AC-013 understood why they no longer demonstrated a healthy respect for human bullets. But he was willing to do his best to teach them some with the five seconds that he was granting himself. 

Five seconds and half a dozen more dead Scorn later, Mal informed him that the Ridgerunner was ready for transmat once again. AC-013 didn’t wait for the ghost to finish reporting and commanded it to bring down the sparrow.

This time, though, AC-013 made sure he was seated properly before opening the throttle. Sixty meters to a hole in the ground barely as big as the sparrow he sat upon. He couldn’t afford any error in trajectory. The Guardian knew that he had no room for error in this mad gamble.

“Why can’t we just get away?” Mal asked. AC-013 could hear a tremble in the the ghost’s voice.

“If we do that, all of these things will simply rush back to help The Machinist.”

“I know. I’m just scared.”

Banking hard into a slide, AC-013 used an anti-grav side boost to perform a sudden stop. He leapt from the sparrow and found himself a couple meters from the crack in the ground. Two swift strides and several Arc, Solar, and Void blasts struck the sparrow in rapid succession. One more stride before the sparrow exploded. AC-013’s shields had been torn away already in the mad flight from behind the building to here. There was nothing except for his already damaged armor to stop the razor sharp shard of fuselage from tearing into his chassis. 

The combined forces of both the explosion and the impact caused AC-013 to tumble forward. He recalled feeling lucky that the tumble carried him into the opening in the ground.

The impact of landing on the cavern floor, twenty meters below, drove the fuselage the rest of the way through his arm.

Now his arm, his rifle, and most important of all, his ghost lay on the ground. He could feel the power of the Light waiting to be released, but AC-013 could not see how to make use of it. He needed two arms to utilize the Void bow.

It would have been the perfect play. A shadowshot placed at the lip of the opening would have given him the chance he needed to go back to where Mal still lay, unresponsive and motionless, and retrieve his tiny friend.

Frustration threatened to overwhelm the Hunter. All this power at his disposal and unable to wield it. What use was it when it couldn’t be used when it was needed the most?

Desperation began to take hold of the Guardian. He considered trying to wield his Nameless Midnight with just the left hand. Would a smoke grenade disorient enough of the Scorn long enough for him to snatch up Mal?

Half a dozen of the Scorn riflemen landed on the cave floor, rifles at the ready and looking about in all directions, the irregular shadows of the cave defeating their ability to detect AC-013. Then a Stalker cried out in excitement; it spotted Mal.

AC-013 watched in horror as the smaller Scorn reached down to pick up the ghost.

Horror swiftly become outrage.

AC-013 didn’t think. He simply acted.

The Guardian let the Light rush forth and rip a hole in space. He thrust his left arm into the Void to pull forth the only weapon that could affect this terrible moment. With a cry of rage, AC-013 ripped the bow out of the tear and leapt forward. All attention in the room immediately turned from the inert ghost to the enraged Guardian. AC-013 had eyes only for the Scorn that dared to touch his ghost.

Lightning quick, he closed the space between him and his target, faster than the rest of the room could react. Void and Solar weapon fire erupted all around him. AC-013 clutched the Void bow in his hand and raised it overhead. The Stalker was too enthralled by the sheer impossibility of the scene unfolding in front of him, the madness of this Guardian charging at him with no weapon in his hand and the other hand lying useless on the floor.

Then the Scorn saw it. The weapon of pure, concentrated Void Light. The Scorn saw it descend. Then it saw nothing more.

The weapon of Light in AC-013’s hand erupted in an unimaginably terrible explosion of Void power. Raw power filled the chamber as every last one of the occupants was hurled to the wall with such force that each one was crushed under the unleashed, wild force. AC-013’s body was torn asunder under the force of the maelstrom.


	13. DISTRACTION pt 5

“Eyes up Guardian. We have no time.”

Blinking wildly, Ace spun in a circle to gain his bearings. Mal had rezzed him in a dark alcove to the side of the cave. Both arms had been returned to normal and his weapons sat comfortably on his back, magnetic holsters holding them in their proper position.

“What did you DO, Guardian?”

The disbelief in Mal’s voice caught Ace’s attention. The ghost was inspecting the cavern wall, Void power still radiated from scratches and rents torn into it. The Scorn that had been caught up in the maelstrom were unrecognizable.

“I don’t...” Ace trailed off to an incoherent stutter. He had no idea how to begin to explain what had transpired.

“Whatever you did,” Mal replied, “don’t ever do that again. You were in several pieces when I found you.”

A tremendous roar filled the cavern. Ace quickly remembered that his crazy stunt had merely bought them a moment of time in this mad fight. A single moment long enough to regroup and nothing else. Mal disappeared as Ace pulled his Nameless Midnight to ready position. “I guess we’ll talk about what happened later,” Ace quipped. 

A moment later, a Scorn Abomination dropped to the cavern floor with a terrific thud. Ace glanced up at the ceiling entrance, his stunt with the Void Light had torn the opening up to create much larger entrance. One that could accommodate the massive frame of an Abomination. As the unnatural monstrosity raised a hand for an attack, a second one dropped into the cave.

“We definitely still have their attention!” Mal’s voice filled his head.

With a mental command, Ace directed his ghost to swap the Nameless Midnight in his hands for the Thunderlord. He should have just enough ammunition left in it to dispatch one of the giant beasts. “Mal, I need an exit,” Ace began as he held down the trigger of Thunderlord, “We are going to hit and run. I need several locations to hit and run to.”

Arc energy poured out of the heavy machine gun like a deadly waterfall. The massive Scorn was swept away swiftly by Thunderlord’s flood. The second Abomination didn’t react to the Hunter’s brutal display except to shove the dead thing’s body out of its way. Glancing down at the ammunition count below the Thunderlord’s sights, Ace knew that his time to run was now.

3 rounds left.

Ace willed a smoke bomb out of the Light energy that currently pooled within him and hurled it at the Abomination. As the creature raised both hands in a futile attempt to ward away the poisonous vapor that assaulted its senses, Ace slipped a few steps deeper into the tunnel. However, waited to continue any further until several smaller Scorn dropped into the cave to join the larger monster.

“Thank goodness,” Ace sighed. He was still enticing bait. 

“Yes, thank goodness,” Mal’s voice dripped with sarcasm.

Ace merely chuckled quietly as he took aim. A Ravager fell to the floor as Ace replied, “Hey, you’re not the one that got torn to pieces a minute ago.”

Thunderlord was empty.

“Put this away,” Ace mentally commanded. The heavy weapon disappeared as the lighter Nameless Midnight materialized into his hands.

“Yes, well that wire rifle blast wasn’t exactly a massage,” Mal managed to approximate a snort.

Several more Scorn warriors dropped into the cavern. Ace’s attack had given away his position, so a dozen weapons were trained on his location. An Arc blast fired wildly from the blinded Abomination lit up the tunnel, briefly illuminating Ace’s fleeing form. As a dozen more Scorn jumped down to the floor, those already in the cave immediately gave chase.

“This would be a great place for some trip mines,” Ace panted.

Why am I panting? I don’t have lungs! Ace had resigned himself, years ago, to the fact that he would have these thoughts at moments like this. He no longer dwelt on the inconveniences and absurdities of being an Exo. His visit to the Bray Research Center on Mars helped him understand that these unbidden thoughts were unavoidable and may be helping his mind to accept the reality of existence as an Exo.

“Are you going to alter Focus?”

Ace considered for a moment as small elemental charges struck and detonated against the tunnel walls around him, “Yeah. Give me a space where I can concentrate for a second.”

“There’s a sharp right Bend in the tunnel coming up soon. They’re far enough behind us that you should have enough time, Ace.”

He could already see the space Mal referred to before the indicator appeared in his visor. A brief glance to his pursuers as he made the sharp right turn told him that he would be cutting it very close.

“You won’t be giving up very much Light,” Mal said reassuringly.

Ace closed his eyes and focused on his thoughts down to his subconscious, deep down to that corner of his mind where the Light was channeled through. This was the part of a Guardian’s mind that granted them their abilities as it gave shape to the the power that it gathered together. 

Ace could feel the well of power there, just beginning to bubble and nowhere near the bursting point. Yeah, he wouldn’t be losing much of the Light at all.

The Guardian could feel the Light within swirling with the frequency that generated Void energy and was compressed in just the right way that it would punch a hole in the reality when released.

The Hunter could feel an impulsive reluctance to give up that Void Light for a different power. Yes, Cayde had been right to warn all of the Hunters against the dangers of channeling the Void.

Pushing through the impulse, Ace willed that part of his subconscious to relax and release the gathered Light. The act was similar to releasing the power in an act of channeling the energy for a minor miracle, but this resulted only in the power simply dissipating, released back to the universe. Ace then focused on Solar energies and he could feel multiple paths that the burning Light wanted to flow in, each path requires its own unique pattern of compression as the energies were gathered up. Ace didn’t care which path the Solar energies took; he was interested only in generating trip mines to aid in this pseudo-guerrilla war.

Coming back to his senses, Ace whispered, “Mal, I need The Spine.”

“They’ll interfere with the armor on your legs and create a Potential feedback. Do you want your regular boots?”

“Yeah. Pants that siphon Void Light aren’t going to be of any use now.”

Even as Ace felt the arm and leg armor get swapped out through transmat, Mal commented, “You know that Zavala doesn’t approve of these.”

Looking down at the bone-covered gauntlet, Ace replied; “Yes, I am well aware. Anyone who lived through the Great Hunt isn’t a fan, but I need these right now. They are a tool and they help increase the amount of Light I can cram into my grenade. I need every edge I can get.”

“Understood.”

At that moment, the first Scorn came rushing around the corner. The tunnel was not large, they were forced to move in a ragged string so there was only the one at the front. Ace had anticipated its arrival and met it with a knife thrust. As the smaller Scorn fell, he swiftly raised his rifle and fired blindly.

Even with the sound of gunfire echoing back at him in a terrible cacophony, Ace heard the scrabbling sound. He had quickly learned to fear that sound as it often preceded incredible pain and a need for a rez. With the light of the muzzle flash, Ace saw the source. 

“Screeb!” Mal screamed.

Ace was already running.


	14. DISTRACTION pt 6

Ace almost groaned aloud as the memory came to him for the fourth time during his harrowing retreat through the dimly lit cave system. For a moment, he wondered if having such vivid memories was a product of being an Exo. Did humans and Awoken have their consciousness invaded like this? Or maybe it was due to being a Guardian?

“As powerful as the Light is, no matter how skilled we are, we Guardians are terribly inefficient with our use of it,” the Warlock Maureet addressed the auditorium of gathered Titans, Hunters, and fellow Warlocks. Ace noted that the Hunters had mostly all selected seats near the rear of the room, if they weren’t simply leaning against the far wall. Ace was one of those lounging against the wall. She continued, “The City’s Warlocks have observed that a significant amount of the energy used to convert the Light into a manifestation of our abilities is simply lost as bleed off. We have figured out a way to recapture some of the lost energy, making us more efficient users of the Light that we wield.”

Ikora stood up from the front row, “How much time will we need to spend training the Guardians h-“

“There is no need for training!” Maureet interrupted enthusiastically, “It is a mechanical device, actually. Well, as mechanical as one could argue a physical device that uses metaphysical principles to affect paracausal eleme-“

“Please, get to the point,” a Titan called out from somewhere in the middle row.

“Oh! My point is that we can work the module INTO their existing armor! It would need to take the space of another element, so I can see some Guardians not being interested in making that trade. However, the most exciting part is this: Once we had figured out the paramath, it was quite simple to determine a method of actually improving a Guardian’s ability to absorb more ambient Light energy. Simply apply this device to their armor and it does the extra work. I will admit that it’s not a terribly large change in performance, but it is noticeable. As you can see from this chart, we were able to successfully integrate two of the modules to a...” The Warlock’s voice dwindled as Ace wandered off. The figures displayed in the air before them were not very impressive and Ace was very much not impressed by numbers, even on the best of days.

Ace had to admit that he wished he had invested glimmer or whatever resources it required into modifying his armor with the Warlock’s upgrades. Especially now, as he slipped another trip mine into a space behind a smaller stalactite. This was his third such use of his Light energy and it felt like an eternity between each one. Anything that would help him generate more power even slightly more quickly would be an incredible boon.

Well, there is no sense in lamenting lost glimmer as they say, Ace thought to himself. He returned focus on the task of keeping the Scorn’s attention on his ever-retreating form so that they did not wander off somewhere where they would be unwelcome. The battle between the hero of the Red War and Elykris definitely qualified as a place that Ace felt they would be most unwelcome. Mal had received word from the hero’s ghost that an earnest battle had commenced. 

It was nice of them to let Ace and Mal know about their progress. Every ally of Elykris that they kept away was a tiny victory to Ace.

“Mal, I know it’s hard to tell, but can you estimate how many are still chasing us?” Ace mentally sent the question so that his ears could focus on the sounds of his pursuers. The acoustics of the underground tunnels made using sound to determine distance between himself and the Scorn a maddening endeavor. But he still tried his best.

It sounded like enemies were all around him. 

“Hmmm, I would estimate only a couple dozen. Less than a quarter of those who first attacked in the first large cavern.”

“Damn. Do you think we could get to the surface fast enough to catch their attention again?”

“I cannot say. I don’t know when exactly the group split up and the larg-“ Mal was cut short by the sound of an explosion. The trip mine had been discovered.

“Time to move. Again,” Ace muttered quietly.

“Hold on! I think-“ Mal was interrupted again by the sound of another explosion. This one was much closer to Ace and the force of the blast sent him sprawling to the floor and tore great rents in his shields. Scorn rifles began firing at Ace’s exposed form. Three of the shots found the back of his left shoulder, his right hip, and his right calf. Pain lanced through his body at each of the impact points.

Gritting his teeth against the pain, Ace scrambled to his feet and retreated. He had no intention of attempting to survive another Scorn grenade. Continued smaller weapons fire followed him.

Ace berated himself for allowing the Scorn to get so close. He was fatigued from the constant hit and run tactics. Forcing himself to stay just within their range while working to avoid any situation where he could be surrounded was much harder than he anticipated. There were many moments where he wanted to simply stand his ground, but he knew that was inviting disaster. One wrong move and it would all be over.

So he ran.

It was only a couple minutes later, as Ace was crouched against a tunnel wall, using a toppled boulder as cover, when Mal suddenly announced, “They did it!”

Ace didn’t allow the unexpected proclamation to distract him. He squeezed the trigger and watched a Raider tumble forward, clutching at its ruined leg. “Who did what?” he finally asked.

“The Machinist is dead! We can leave, Ace.”

“Fire up the transmat and get us the hell out of here!”

Ace felt a twinge of sadness at the fact that Exos could not cry or even approximate tears. He would have cried in relief as the initial sensation of transmaterialization took hold of his body.


	15. DEBRIEF

“It looked like a Nova Bomb had gone off when I came to. You know, Ace, there is a reason why Warlocks throw the thing AWAY from themselves,” despite Mal’s attempt at humor, neither of them were able to summon even a chuckle at the remark. “But something about the traces of power left behind was wrong. Very wrong. Seriously, do not do that again. There are some things that can truly damage a Guardian. Irreparable damage even a ghost can’t fix and I have a very strong feeling that... whatever that was... could do it.”

Ace, silently reliving that terrible moment when his bow exploded, winced. Even the memory of the pain that he had experienced was too intense to face unflinching. He needed no admonishing to convince him.

Ace and Mal now sat, safe and secure, in the cockpit of their ship. They had not done any more serious damage to the Scorn chasing after them. Really, only a handful more fell to trip mine grenades and standard rifle fire after the incident. He had been tempted to use the golden gun but Ace felt it wiser to save the devastating weapon in case he found himself trapped or otherwise overwhelmed. Now that they were no longer in danger, Ace could feel his subconscious instinctively relax and the Solar power that had been swelling within him was released.

How did other Guardians like Zavala manage hold onto the Light when they were doing mundane tasks, Ace wondered. He had asked Mal how to do it and Mal started droning endlessly about mental discipline and patience and key traits and on and on. No matter how much Ace tried to exercise his focus, he couldn’t figure it out. As soon as he relaxed in the slightest way, he felt the Light slip away.

This time, though, Ace was so thoroughly exhausted that the sensation of releasing the Light in a dispersal like this was a relief.

“Did they really pull it off?” Ace tried to change the subject.

“The deed is very well complete. Elykris has been killed and good amount of her stockpile has been accounted for.” A hint of malice crept into the ghost’s tone as he continued, “Without someone directing them, all of her forces have been scattered to the corners of the Hidden Shore. They are being picked off by forces answering to the Spider and as well as other Guardians who have managed to make their way here.”

That caught Ace’s attention, “The Vanguard?”

“Not exactly. It would appear that the four of us are not the only ones who wish to deliver vengeance for the death of Cayde.”

“As long as it’s the four of us that get to Uldren, I don’t care how many Guardians show up,” Ace growled.

“Yes, to that point, you should be happy to know that our partners have become much more tight lipped. They are no longer sharing information freely with everyone.” Ace was nodding as he listened; he was very happy to hear it. “They’re still networking with Petra Venj and The Spider, of course. And they have expressed interest in continuing to work together with us. But with only Fikrul and Uldren left...”

Mal didn’t need to continue. Only two leaders left meant that the likelihood of someone figuring out where they had hidden away was exponentially greater. Petra and the rogue Fallen were not the only sources of information in the system. 

“So, What do we know about those last two?” Ace finally asked.

“We have actually received some good news on that,” Ace perked up as a touch of excitement passed through him, “They are together. At least, Spider’s sources put them in the same location the last time they were spotted.”

“So what do they need?”

“Remember how we essentially kept everything out of Araskes’s hideout?” Mal began.

With a defeated sigh, Ace nodded. The number of Scorn that had shown up to reinforce The Trickster was much greater than they had expected and had almost overwhelmed them. It hadn’t been as bad as the distraction gambit that they ran to help with Elykris, but it was still bad enough to give Ace pause.

“They were last seen entering a place that contains an entrance to something called ‘The Dreaming City’,” Mal continued, “It is terribly important to the Awoken and Uldren appears to be trying to gain access.”

“So what exactly are we going to be dealing with, Mal?”

“A single structure, called the ‘Lighthouse’,” the ghost explained, “It houses the entrance. Several large groups of Scorn are in the area and any one of them is large enough to pose a very major problem if they show up at the wrong time.”

“No one likes getting pinched,” Ace chuckled wryly. 

“Quite. So we are going to meet the Guardian at the entrance to this ‘Lighthouse’. They are going to head in and we will stay outside. I have the coordinates and a time.”

For a brief, shameful moment, Ace considered racing ahead and beating the other Guardian to the prize. But why should he be ashamed? After all, Ace had known Cayde for far much longer, had shared many more experiences with the fallen Hunter Vanguard. It should be Ikora and Zavala here, but if not them, why not someone who had been as close to Cayde as Ace?

And if Ace was the one to pull the trigger, then that would help alleviate some of the inevitable wrath that would befall the hero of the Red War. A Guardian who had done so much good for Humanity did not deserve to be the sole recipient of the Vanguard’s wrath. Besides, Ace was rarely in the Tower so Zavala’s anger wouldn’t pose an issue to his regular routine. It would likely blow over in a couple decades and then Ace could return to the Tower.

Plus, he and Mal had honestly done just as much work to get them all to this point. He may not have killed the Barons, but he made their deaths possible with his assistance. It was very likely that this whole thing would have ended in disaster several times without Ace acting around the edges, eliminating reinforcements and sabotaging enemy assets. 

As quickly as the temptation came, it passed. Ace would honor his word. Cayde and the Guardian had been a fire team at the moment of Cayde’s fall. That was all he needed to know. Ace activated the ship’s computer and began accessing information. 

“If we are going to be going in to a fight like that, let me take a look at the weapons and armor we have stored up here.” Looking at a display screen listing the armor lockers, Ace remembered a certain Warlock’s unimpressive charts, “Do you think we have time for a quick trip to the Tower?”

“Only if you’re extremely quick,” Mal replied, “We are so close to avenging Cayde. When this is over, can you do something for me, Ace?”

Ace paused from his review of the on-ship armory, “What’s that?”

Mal materialized and hovered close to look Ace in the eye, “A new cloak. That thing still reeks.”

“We’ll take Uldren’s.”


	16. PREPARATION

The memory came as all of the memories did, vivid and unbidden. This one was not unwelcome, though. Ace smiled as the moment came to him from many decades in the past.

“Do you need to have a hand cannon in order to be a gun slinger?”

“Well, I will tell you this, kid...” Cayde paused for dramatic effect, “It doesn’t hurt.”

Ace’s silence as he considered the Hunter Vanguard’s words spoke volumes. Cayde took a step back and eyed the young Guardian for a moment. 

“Have you never summoned the golden gun?”

Ace shook his head, almost apologetic in his ignorance. 

“Oh, kid, let me tell you. It is a feeling you will never forget. Now, don’t get me wrong! It’s absolutely cathartic to use Arc Light to slice or bash an enemy into oblivion,” Cayde paused again as he aimed an imaginary pistol at the far window, “but nothing feels like aiming the sun at something and then ERASING that thing in a blast of pure golden fire. Nothing.”

The memory passed and Ace was back in reality. Sitting in the ship’s cockpit, he stared at the computer’s display screen. Ace was currently inspecting the Orpheus Rig leg armor, rotating the display a few times, before closing the menu screen and navigating to the list of stored helmets. The Wormhusk Crown caught his eye and the Hunter brought up the full information display. 

Mal noticed Ace considering the helmet. “You won’t be able to wear that along with the Orpheus Rig. Too much equipment interacting with metaphysics to be safe to take into combat. You know what happened to Renner.”

“Some things a Guardian can’t be revived from,” Ace murmured. Then he commented in a more normal tone, “I’m not going to be wearing the Rig for this fight.”

Mal turned from the computer display to regard its partner, “You’re not going to use the shadowshot? This seems like a perfect scenario for the bow.”

Ace winced at the mention of the Void bow. He couldn’t decide if fear, fed by the memory of his last experience using the weapon, was driving his decision or if it was fond memories of Cayde’s mentoring. Whichever it was, Ace still did not enjoy remembering the that had overwhelmed all of his senses before the released destructive forces destroyed his body.

“I just think that, on the mission that will finally see his killer put into the ground, we ought to honor Cayde with his favorite weapon of the Light,” Ace lied. And yet, it was also very much the truth.

Mal’s orb tilted to one side as it considered Ace’s words. “Very poetic. Yes, Cayde would definitely approve.”

Ace then considered his latest purchases, a couple handful’s worth of Maureet’s armor modification kits. Mal assured him that the ghost was capable of assimilating the assorted components into whichever pieces of equipment that he selected. Ace hoped that his partner wouldn’t have any problems with the project, each one of these mods had been quite expensive. And Banshee refused to allow purchases on credit.

After a short moment of consideration, Ace had to admit that he couldn’t blame Banshee. Guardians died their final death often enough. And then there was the simple fact that the weapon smith’s memory was extremely unreliable and Banshee knew it. Ace would never take advantage of a fellow Exo, but a small part of him was secretly grateful that this was never put to the text.

The Crown used reclaimed Light energy to boost shield and physical regeneration. It’s metaphysical structure utilized the Light energy that would bleed off whenever a Hunter performed one of their special dive or roll techniques. Given that Ace’s role in this fight was to make himself a roadblock between the front door, he felt that giving his recovery abilities a boost would be invaluable, so being able to perform the evasive maneuver more often would be extremely welcome in the impending battle.

But so would being able to use an ability like the golden gun more often. A couple of the kits had components that helped improve the gathering and compression of ambient Light energy that was used to activate and summon weapons of Light. 

“Ace,” Mal called, “we don’t have much time. The other Guardian will be heading to the rendezvous point any minute now.”

Deciding quickly that it would be most effective to be able to avoid enemy fire and boost his regeneration, Ace set out a trio of kits designed to improve his Hunter ability to perform a powered dodge. According to Banshee, anything more than three would be a waste of resources. While it would be fantastic to use the golden gun more, the increase in Light energy production toward that ability wasn’t impressive enough for what Ace had in mind.

The Hunter was going to be a roadblock. The most effective roadblock the solar system had ever seen.

He then set out a pair designed to improve how the Light was converted and compressed for his grenades. “Mal, integrate these into the Wormhusk Crown and the other armor I’ve queued up for this fight.”

As the ghost directed its attention to the armor and mods, Ace closed his eyes and pull his consciousness deep into his Focus. Trip mines weren’t going to do what Ace had in mind. Ace envisioned miniature suns dotting the battlefield, burning everything that dared approach the door.

It was a couple hours later when Ace realized that his fantasy of covering the ground with solar grenades was painfully laughable. Ace had started this mission at the mouth of a nondescript ravine that terminated at the entrance to the Awoken’s Watchtower. The canyon was the only approach due to the wild energies and unpredictable gravity swells that made approach by drop ship a suicidal endeavor.

Of course, the Scorn definitely could be described as such. Three stolen skiffs were brought down to collide with the rocky surface by energy swells that caused engine failure or gravity anomalies that had caused the ships to plummet suddenly. One drop ship piloted by the Scorn had been literally torn in half by an extreme gravity spike. Ace hadn’t had the luxury of observing the destruction, his focus had been solely on eliminating everything that moved, so Mal had described each event with a breathless awe.

Ace had allowed himself to be moved from one side of the entrance to the other, but he never retreated into the ravine. Nor did he stray too far away. Every Scorn that entered the area was swiftly spotted by the Hunter and his ghost. Word among the assaulting forces spread swiftly and Ace quickly found himself going from dealing with individual combatants to larger, organized groups. While he was not able to cover the field with miniature suns, the Gunslinger did move about the ravine’s opening while spreading as much fire and destruction as possible. There was more than one way to set the battlefield ablaze. 

“Mal, Curtain Call,” Ace summoned the large rocket launcher as soon as he saw the group of a dozen Scorn appear at the far edge of the field. The battlefield was a massive crater, with the ravine that they were defending at one end, and several other crevices and tunnels giving access all around.

This group came charging from a crevice a couple hundred meters to the right of his position. They were closely grouped together. Ace chuckled wryly at their commander’s ineptitude.

“Mal, make sure to let me know when you spot something you can use to generate more ammo,” Ace watched the launcher’s ammo count tick down by one. A moment later, the entire group of charging Scorn was scattered to the wind of the Tangled Shore in a fiery explosion.

A tremendous roar removed the delighted expression from Ace’s face. Striding through the residual flames, the largest Abomination that the Hunter had seen appeared with a mighty bellow. “Ace! We are in a bad spot!” Mal screamed.

Standing out in the open, none of the boulders or other rubble that he had been using for cover nearby, Ace had to agree. He had moved out in search of replacement ammunition for the rocket launcher. A smile found home on the Exo’s face.

Ace summoned the sun, took aim, and then erased the Abomination with a blast of pure golden fire.


	17. ABSOLUTION

Their fortunes changed abruptly not long after Ace had summoned his weapon of Light to destroy the Abomination. It seemed as if the enemy forces arrayed against his defense of the ravine were waiting for the Hunter to play his trump card. Moments after it was spent, Scorn began to pour out of multiple entrances to the crater where Ace and Mal were making their stand.

The initial onslaught had caught Ace unprepared. He was still standing out in the open, fruitlessly searching for material that Mal could convert into ammunition, when the first shot nearly took his head off. Spinning around in the direction of the blast, the Guardian’s eyes widened with alarm. The next two wire rifle discharges did not miss. The first struck him squarely in the chest, destroying the shield with a flash of mingling Arc and Solar energies. The second impacted his left shoulder, having passed through the hole created in his shield by the first blow. Pain from the last shot lanced through his body, briefly deadening the muscles in his left arm from should to fingertip.

If the Exo was quite honest about it all, he had to admit that he was incredibly tired of the pain. Being a human soul inside of a robotic frame, it would have been nice to be able to eliminate the sensation of pain. There was truly no logical reason that Ace could think of that justified the existence of pain receptors in his metallic body. All it served to accomplish was to HURT. He was so very tired of hurting.

But pain was a powerful motivator. It gave tremendous incentive to avoid the next deadly blast. With a mental command to unleash the pent energy, Ace rolled forward with a burst of Solar Light. He could feel a warmth suffuse his body, a warmth that magnified, in a very pleasant way, as it radiated out from the Wormhusk Crown. 

“Shields recharged,” Mal observed a second later. 

Another trick of the Light-empowered roll was that the energy passing through his entire being actually managed to transfer the last rocket that he held in reserve to the Curtain Call’s magazine. Ace wasted no time putting that rocket to use. Several dozen screaming Scorn poured like a flash flood of corruption into the crater. He didn’t even need to aim in order to ensure that many of the reinforcements would be laid to waste in the blast. 

Nor did the Hunter bother to wait and witness the destruction that was wrought. Because there was no amount that could be delivered by just one Guardian that could turn the tide that was about to crash upon him. “We are retreating into the canyon,” Ace mentally informed his ghost, “If the hero isn’t ready for us to arrive at the Watchtower, that is too bad. I need a bottleneck.”

Mal was silent while Ace raced from one coverage point to another. Just before they reached the entrance proper, Mal finally responded, “They say it’s okay. They have actually made it into the Watchtower. The ghost says that they were forced into the Ascendent Realm inside of there in their pursuit of Uldren, so communication has been difficult.”

“The Ascendent Realm?” Ace repeated with incredulity, “What the hell is happening in there?”

“I don’t know, but I think we may be lucky to be out here.”

Ace spun suddenly to throw a grenade at the ground nearest the canyon’s egress. He may not have been able to dot the battlefield with dozens of miniature suns, but he was able to place the occasional one here and there. And whenever he did throw one out, the Scorn within its vicinity burned and died. Again, he didn’t bother to wait and witness the destruction. Even as their companions screamed and died, Scorn riflemen fired at Ace’s fleeing form. It wasn’t an incredibly wide crevice, but it was definitely large enough for several to enter at once and some were able to continue to move around the flaming ball of Solar Light.

Ace was not sure how much he agreed with Mal’s assessment of the situation. Several small pistol blasts deflected off of his recharged shields, each one tearing small pieces away. Each one creating a hole of vulnerability in his personal defenses. Sliding to the ground behind a toppled boulder, Ace spun once again to face the horde surging through the bottleneck. This time, the Hunter brought the Nameless Midnight to bear. Every round fired was empowered with the Light, channeled through Ace and into the weapon’s magazine. The Light manifested in an explosive payload that Ace carefully delivered to critical areas of his foes. One such explosive round found a Screeb leading a pack of a half dozen of its fellows. The Light-empowered round triggered the volatile chemical reaction contained within the scrabbling Scorn. The following blast triggered the same chemical reaction in another Screeb and, a moment later, a chain reaction resulted in a half dozen explosions. Several other Scorn were caught up in and incapacitated by the series of detonations.

“That was lucky,” Mal observed.

With a smooth, practiced motion, Ace reloaded the scout rifle as he sighed, “Yes, but there are still plenty more coming.”

As if to confirm the Exo’s statement, the next wave of rushing Scorn let out a chilling scream of outrage. Ace looked over his shoulder to the terminus of the ravine, a couple hundred meters away and visible as a pillar of light in contrast to the canyon’s gloom. He then spared a glance to the top of the ravine and could make out the flaming wreckage of a crashed skiff trying to bridge the gap overhead. Ace’s eyes narrowed as he considered the ship remains.

“Mal, that wreck looks pretty precarious right there,” Ace fired the Nameless Midnight several times. Almost as many Scorn fell dead, “Can we use that?”

“Maybe if you had something as powerful as a rocket,” Mal answered, “Sadly, you are out of ammunition for the Curtain Call.”

A Scorn grenade blast caused the boulder to shudder slightly. Ace noticed that a couple other grenades had also landed near his position behind the large rock. He didn’t waste any time putting distance between himself and the deadly devices. His shields had managed to mostly recharge during his brief time behind that rock, but they would not hold up against multiple explosions.

“Does Spider have any ships in the area that could help with this?”

“Ace!” Mal’s shock was apparent. His response was filled with outrage, “You can’t seriously want to get help like that from a Fallen!”

The malice in the ghost’s tone reminded the Guardian exactly why he had chosen to bestow it with its given name. “Mal, we need to plug this hole. It’s too dangerous to go up there. Gravity and energy swells will send them flying. But it is getting hard to hold them here.”

To the Hunter’s point, a small boulder smashed into the cliff wall just above his head. Ace pulled away from his rifle’s scope to see another Abomination step forward, pushing its way through the Scorn riflemen. A handful of Ravagers followed in its wake.

“Yes, I see your point,” Mal relented as Ace turned to fire on the rushing giant and chain-wielding Scorn. The Hunter had learned a trick when helping to eliminate Reksis Vahn. He took aim at the flaming censor dangling at the end of leading Ravager’s chain. A moment later, Ace triggered a fiery explosion that brought down three of the Scorn. Mal’s tone was calmer as it continued, “There is no way they can assist. Spider’s forces can’t bring their drop ships close enough to fire on the wreckage without risking the same fate.”

Another censor exploded with a satisfying blast. All of the Ravagers lay twitching, smoldering on the ground. Ace took aim at the Abomination’s deformed, corrupted head. “Well, it was worth asking,” he muttered with quiet resignation. 

As the first round from the Nameless Midnight struck the monster’s grotesque head, the Abomination raised both arms high. Ace could feel an ominous power swelling. He didn’t wait to see what it was trying to accomplish, emptying his weapon’s magazine as quickly as possible. Unfortunately, it was not enough, “It feels like it is opening a gate!” Mal warned.

Corrupted ether began to ooze out of the Abomination and gather in a pool at its feet. Ace swiftly swung the scout rifle to his back and unslung the Damietta. An angry retort and blinding flash of Solar energy from the sniper rifle ended the Abomination. The coalescing corrupted ether immediately began to dissipate.

There was no time for self congratulation. Scorn rifle and pistol fire had continued unabated during the exchange. The large rock that the Guardian crouched behind was rent and torn from the attacks as small flecks of rock went flying with each blast. Ace leaned out and trained the Damietta’s scope on the Scorn snipers in the enemy ranks. Four pulls of the trigger saw four snipers fall.

“Look out!” Mal’s warning pulled Ace away from the scope, allowing him to take in the scene around him. Corrupted ether flowed over the ground around him. Before Ace could question what was happening, the purple hued mist suddenly took shape and three Scorn Raiders stepped forth. Instinct seized hold of the Guardian as a knife appeared in his hand and was immediately plunged into the chest of the nearest Raiders.

“They can do that?!” Mal shouted in alarm.

Ace grunted as one of the Raiders swung the butt of its rifle into the Hunter’s stomach. He hopped backward a step and summoned a knife of Solar Light and hurled it into the face of his attacker. “What does it matter? They can do it,” Ace grimaced as he leapt over the falling Scorn body at the third Raider.

Looking up from the third body to fall to his knife, Ace saw a Chieftain step forward to join the other Scorn troops. “It’s time to find a new position,” Ace announced. 

“There should be better cover at the Watchtower entrance,” Mal’s incorporeal voice replied, “At least you’ll have more room to move.”

Ace began his frantic race to the far end of the ravine, pausing periodically whenever there was sufficient cover to safely return fire and take a moment to allow his shields to recharge. He did his best, but it was impossible for the Hunter to avoid all of the enemy fire. He was able to throw another grenade just before he reached the end. A smile creased Ace’s face as he the sound of cries of pain reached his ears.

“Well done!” Mal congratulated, “That should slow th-“

A Void blast cut the ghost short. It struck Ace in the back of his head, piercing the shield and punching a hole in the helmet. Ace could see the towering doors of the Awoken’s Watchtower and, in an instant, saw nothing else.


	18. ABSOLUTION pt 2

“Eyes up, Guardian.”

Blinking wildly, Ace dove to ground and rolled forward, his last memory being that of indescribable pain as the Void rifle’s blast pierced the back of his helmet. Expecting imminent attack, the resurrected Exo whipped both knives from their respective sheaths at his back and whirled to face his assailant. The Scorn were still many meters away, delayed by his last grenade burning the air around it with deadly Solar power.

Panting with terror, “What did you do?” he screamed at Mal.

“I know that you said to stay hidden and leave you there if you fell,” the ghost apologized, still in physical form. Ace noted that Mal stayed out of sight of the Scorn by hiding behind him, “But I just couldn’t do it. As soon as you fell, I... I...”

Sheathing the knives, Ace snatched his ghost and dashed to the side. “What’s done is done and it turned out okay. Just...” Ace paused with a heavy sigh and changed what he had been about to say, “just get out of sight now that I am back up. Okay?”

Even though Mal said nothing, Ace could sense the profound relief as he felt the ghost’s cuboid form in his hand dissipate. There was no time to debate the thing’s compulsive need to revive its Guardian any time, every time, as soon as he fell. He had managed to get to the corner of the ravine’s opening to the Watchtower entryway without being struck by any more attacks. 

The entryway was not large. Basically a smaller crater with the canyon opening on one end and the Watchtower doors on the opposite. A marble staircase grew from the rocky crater floor to form an ornate, multi-tiered platform that fed the doorway. Pillars of Awoken architecture framed the outer space of the crater at regular intervals, along with a couple large boulders that had collapsed from the cliff side. The Watchtower doors were wide open and the area was already littered with dead Scorn, testament to the battle that had been raged between the hero Guardian and The Fanatic. 

“Mal! Please tell me that there is something here that you can work with to get me more ammunition for the Curtain Call!” Ace pleaded.

Its tone betraying Mal’s eagerness to please, it replied, “Hold on. Let me see.” 

Ace knew that his ghost was exceptionally distressed whenever he became upset with it. He would put things right as soon they finished with their task. While he waited for the scan of the area to finish, the Hunter busied himself with pulling the Damietta from its magnetic holster on his back and putting it to immediate use. Scorn fell dead with every squeeze of the trigger.

But it wasn’t enough. They did not fear dying, so the flood continued without pause. Ace did not bother trying to avoid any of the return fire, accepting the destruction of his energy shield and the stinging pain in return for eliminating each target. Every Scorn killed now, in the bottleneck, was one less to deal with in the chaos that would erupt once they reached the cavern. And every dead body was a potential tripping hazard, Ace noted with a wry chuckle, as he observed a larger Ravager stumble over the prone form of a fallen comrade. The Ravager managed to interrupt the flow of bodies immediately around it as it tripped up several others as they tried to trample the creature in their blind rush to reach the Watchtower.

“Yes!” Mal’s elation was followed by a handful of indicators appearing in Ace’s display. “There appears to be several groupings of raw material with the Potential that we need.”

Ace stood up and allowed the Solar energy empower a diving roll toward the nearest indicator. The warmth was welcome relief as it pushed back the stinging pain and immediately recharged the damaged shields. He smiled as he considered the kind of damage he would wreak upon his foes in the canyon. The smile did not diminish as he willed the rocket launcher into his hands and inserted the freshly converted payload. The leading forces were mere steps away from the cavern proper when the rocket left the launcher.

A fireball engulfed them all, the explosion filled from one side of the canyon to the other, and incinerated several rows of charging Scorn. With a bellow of outrage, a massive Chieftain leapt into the residual flames and issued a challenge. At least, it felt like a challenge of some kind to Ace.  
This time, the Gunslinger allowed the Solar Light power to swell to an exquisite crescendo. The entire world around him disappeared as he was briefly blinded by the power engulfed him. In his hands, he held the sun in the form of a hand cannon that trembled with the power it contained.

In response to the Scorn Chieftain’s challenge, Ace replied with golden fire. It was erased with two quick blasts. Ace used a third, and final, shot to eliminate the Ravager that stood just behind the Chieftain.

The next several minutes consisted of mad scrambles from one pillar to the next, using them for cover as the Hunter made sure that no Scorn got more than a handful of steps into the room. The Curtain Call and, when possible, his grenades were utilized whenever he felt that the enemy forces were grouped up enough. A couple of times, he was surprised by small groups of Raiders using their ability to transport short distances, but Ace had quickly learned to identify the corrupted ether that they used to travel through. Now they were swiftly met with deadly force as soon as they took shape.

But it was exhausting. He constantly existed on a knife’s edge between one disaster or another. If he hadn’t been able to periodically boost his shield regeneration, he would have been struck down many times. The Guardian knew that they would not be so lucky as to have Mal he able to revive him without being disabled. And then all would have been lost.

So Ace dodged and spun, he slid and rolled, always out of the way of the blast that would end them both, forever too close to dying.

He was able to unleash the golden gun a couple more times, but always with care. He only summoned forth but weapon of Light when an enemy requiring the overwhelming firepower appeared. It was immediately after the last summoning that Mal announced triumphantly, “It’s done! We can go!”

Ace practically collapsed with exhausted relief at the news. Why was he so exhausted? He didn’t have muscles or lungs to power his body’s movements. There was no reason for a machine to experience fatigue. With a curt, violent shake of his head, the Exo cut short the line of thought and called out, “Then get us the hell out of here!”

“With great pleas- Wait,” there was a tremor of fear in the ghost’s voice, “I don’t understand. It’s no good!”

Alarm drove away the weariness that had crept into the Hunter’s limbs. “What do you mean by, ‘it’s no good’?”

“It must be the energy swells! The ship’s transmat can’t get a lock on you!”

Ace threw his recently charged grenade at the canyon’s opening, causing the Scorn nearest to dive to the side to avoid incineration. A handful were not quick enough and were caught in the blast. “Well, we have a couple choices. We can take our luck with the Watchtower and see what’s on the other side of that door, or we can try to get back through that canyon.”

“They has to pass through the Ascendent Realm in there. We don’t know what will happen,” Mal warned.

Firing the Nameless Midnight at those who tried to pass around the grenade’s ball of Solar fire, Ace replied, “Yeah, I’m not keen to step into there. At least out here, I know which way is up.”

“Wait. Do you feel that?”

The Guardian did. If he had hair on his arms, it would have been standing up. It irritated him only slightly that he could “feel” that sensation. “What is it?” Ace whispered.

Before Mal could suggest a possible cause, a Taken Blight suddenly appeared in the Watchtower’s open door. The crashing sound of thunder filled the air as reality was warped by the appearance of the Blight. Ace groaned with dismay. He was currently positioned between the floating orb of darkness and the Scorn trying to press into the crater. Taken shapes began to materialize beneath the gigantic sphere. Thralls and Psions, Vandals and Phalanx, each one twitching with Taken energies as it surveyed the scene that it had been summoned into.

Ace quietly slipped to the side of the pillar. The Scorn paid no heed to the danger of the Taken’s sudden appearance. If anything, the appearance of this threat merely gave them even more incentive to charge into the Watchtower’s entryway. The Guardian allowed them to enter and snuck to cover even further away, trying his best to avoid drawing any attention to himself.

“Mal,” Ace whispered, “What is happening?”

“I’m not sure. It would appear that Uldren’s death has triggered some kind of response from the Taken!”

“This may be exactly what we needed.”

“Ace! There isn’t enough cover! We can’t wait for the Taken and Scorn to battle it out! We will be spotted eventually!”

Ignoring the protests of his ghost, Ace closed his eyes and slipped into his subconscious, his mind centering on his Focus. Releasing the Solar energies that had already begun to pool, the Guardian Focused on the Void. Fear made him hesitate for only the briefest moment.

“Y’know, kid, being brave doesn’t mean you’re never afraid. I’m terrified all the time. Did I ever tell you about the time I saw Ikora was in the Crucible against me? Wait. Wrong topic. What was I saying? The point is I went in. Bravery is doing what scares you anyway.” Ace smiled as the memory of Cayde played through his mind. The young Hunter had gone in to ask about locating some Solitron Flare and Cayde instead started talking nonsense. 

Returning to consciousness, Ace took quick stock of the scene before him. It appeared that the Taken and Scorn were fully engrossed with trying to destroy one another and had forgotten about his presence. None of the combatants had made their way to his side of the crater, but it was only a matter of time. Both sides had immediately begun to spread out.

“It just occurred to me, but Petra is not going to like having this door left wide open and unguarded like this,” Mal commented.

“Oh, and we’re supposed to stay here and take care of...” Ace paused for effect, “THIS?”

A Scorn Raider, trying to get a better angle on the Taken forces, tripped over Ace’s crouched form. Before the thing could draw any attention, the Nightstalker silenced it with a swift knife stroke. Mal simply continued, “I know. No one could blame us for leaving things like they are. I was just thinking.”

A tremendous roar thundered and reverberated off of the crater walls. Alarm cut Ace’s retort before it could leave his lips as he looked back to the Blight. A gigantic Taken Ogre had appeared while he was focused on the Scorn. Panic began to take hold.

“We need to get out of here!” Mal felt the same panic, “Now!”

“I know!” AC-013 hissed, “But there is no safe way out yet!” 

As Mal shouted about another Blight appearing on the battlefield, AC-013 reached down with his senses to feel the Light that had built up within him. Almost there. Just a matter of seconds now. A second roar drew him back to reality.

“What was that?” he whispered to his ghost, “Another ogre?”

“I don’t think so,” Mal answered.

The roar echoed into the battlefield once more. The Hunter turned to look at the canyon entrance, where the Scorn had been pouring in, and saw a massive Abomination step through. He was honestly surprised that the thing had been able to pass through some of the tighter spots in the ravine.

Then Ace saw it.

“Here’s our chance!” Ace cried out. The flood of Scorn troops entering the area had ended. The behemoth Abomination was the last of them.

Before Mal could protest, Ace leapt forward from his still undetected position. It took several steps before any of the Taken or Scorn noticed the Guardian in their midst. It took even less for those that did to turn their weapons on the Lightbearer. A half dozen explosions erupted all around him as wild shots hit the rocky ground or cliff side. The next couple of shots managed to tear into his energy shield, but were deflected before they could cause any physical damage. The Ogre and Abomination were both focused on each other. If they hadn’t been, this gamble would have been ended immediately.

Ace allowed the Void Light to pour forth from within, the power enveloping his body and empowering his roll forward. As he rolled to his feet and he began the last of his run for the exit, he felt himself disappear from view. 

It was impossible to judge precisely, but Ace felt that the Void Light would conceal him just long enough to get behind the Abomination. A smile began to grow on the Nightstalker’s face, but it was immediately wiped away as a wild swing from the Abomination, aimed at a Taken Thrall, managed to strike Ace’s invisible form. The force of the blow sent Ace flying into the cliff wall. As he fell to the floor, he felt the Void Light melt away. He was visible once again.

“Ace! Your arm!” Mal’s silent cry of alarm rang through his head. He ignored the ghost. This would not be the first time he had lost an arm during this affair.

The Guardian didn’t even spare a glance to see what kind of damage had been done to him. Luck had carried him past the Abomination to land a short couple of meters from the canyon’s opening. None of the Scorn or Taken had noticed him. Scrambling awkwardly to his feet, Ace focused solely on putting as much distance between himself and the battle as possible. 

It was a minute later when he realized that he was clutching his left arm in his right hand. No pursuit was evident and Mal couldn’t detect anything ahead. Ace briefly considered taking a moment to have the ghost repair him, but he didn’t want to waste any more time. If an enemy did appear, he would risk allowing Mal to restore him then.

As he continued deeper into the ravine, Ace felt a heavy weight that he didn’t even realize he had been bearing leave his shoulders. His next breath came easier. And even easier again as he announced, “All that matters is that Uldren is finally in the ground. For Cayde.”


	19. DRINKING

As he waited for the Faster Than Light drive of the Alpha Umi to power up, Ace looked down and considered the restoration Mal performed for his dismembered arm. It never failed to amaze the Hunter how his ghost could repair any and all damage done to his body. Even something as final as death was not beyond its ability to restore.

And yet, there were some physical injuries that a ghost could not repair, but those were exceedingly rare. For the most part, as long as the Guardian’s Light remained with him, his ghost could save him.

But what of the damage incurred that was not physical? Ace worried about his psyche. While he felt supreme satisfaction at helping avenge the death of his friend, Cayde-6, he was also very shaken by some of the events that transpired during the undertaking. First and foremost in his mind, was the shattering of the Nightstalker bow during the fight near Elykris’s hideout. The energies unleashed had done more than simply destroy Ace’s body, albeit temporarily thanks to Mal’s intervention. The pain of that incident made the Hunter fear to reach into the Void and draw out the bow a second time.

The shadowshot would have been a much more effective weapon of Light in the final battle, but he prevaricated and chose the golden gun. Ace knew the real reason why he had done it, despite his impassioned reasoning to Mal.

Second of all was the latest death. Something about the pain of that incident stuck with Ace even after being restored by Mal. The agony caused by the Nightstalker bow shattering was the worst he had ever experienced, but this last death left him with a bone deep, pervasive weariness. He was tired of suffering. 

“FTL is ready to go and the City is punched in,” Mal’s announcement intruded upon Ace’s thoughts.

Ace looked up from his arm to the ship display. The FTL drive had been charged and ready to launch for several minutes. He made no move to activate.

“How many times have I died, Mal?” Ace asked in a quiet monotone. 

“I’m sorry, what was that?” 

“Never mind. It’s nothing,” Ace touched the display to activate the FTL drive, “Let’s get going.”

 

Several minutes later found Ace sitting alone in the Tower. “I heard what you did, Guardian,” a voice called out from behind him. 

Ace looked up from his quiet contemplation of the mountains beyond the City’s great wall. He was sitting at the edge of one the Tower’s balconies, feet dangling over the side. When he turned to regard who was approaching, panic swept through the Hunter and he tensed involuntarily.

“Relax, Ace. I’m not here to pass judgment on you. In fact, I am grateful for what you have done for my fire team,” stepping forward to the balcony’s edge and looking out to take in the sprawling splendor of the last city, Ikora whispered, “He cannot show it, but Zavala is grateful as well.”

“You both are welcome. I we-“ Ikora cut Ace short with a held up hand. Ace swiftly changed his comment, “I did what I did for myself, but I am happy that you two could find some comfort in my actions.”

“And do you feel happy?” Ace turned sharply back to look at Ikora. Her question bit deep. The Warlock continued, “Those who chase revenge often find it hollow and tasting of ash.”

The Hunter shook his head, “I am satisfied with what I have done. There is no regret or anything like that here.”

Ikora lowered herself to sit next to him, “Then what is troubling you? Hunters like yourself rarely spend any more time in the Tower than is absolutely necessary. The Wild has a siren call that only you can hear.”

Ace didn’t know how to respond. Even he was having a hard time understanding what he was thinking. How to articulate it to another?

“I think... I am tired,” he finally decided. 

The Warlock didn’t immediately respond. She merely stared into his mechanical eyes and considered. Ace didn’t know how much time passed. Seconds? Minutes? Then she asked, “How many times have you died, Guardian?”

Like a floodgate, Ace felt a cascade of various emotions wash over him. From anxiety to relief, he couldn’t decide how to feel in the instant that followed her insightful question.

“I don’t know. All I know is that I go out there... and I fight.... and I suffer for it. Were we Guardians made simply to suffer?” Ace managed to make the question sincere and not an accusation.

In response, Ikora directed her attention to the silent Traveler. Ace’s gaze followed. “There is a very good reason why you must be chosen to become a Guardian. As the Speaker used to teach, ‘Devotion inspires bravery. Bravery inspires sacrifice. Sacrifice leads to death’.”

“But what does death lead to?” Ace quietly murmured.

“Many have delved deep into that question,” Ikora replied softly, “but that is not what troubles you.”

Ace closed his eyes as he sighed heavily, “I am just tired. There is just so much pain.”

He felt a comforting hand rest on his shoulder, “I think you should have a word with one of your fellow Hunters. She may have some advice.”

A couple hours later, Ace stepped into the dim light of the nondescript bar described by Ikora. The smell of stale alcohol greeted his nose. Odor receptor? The floor clung to his boots as he strode across the room to sit at the bar. The bartender, a younger Human male stepped from the corner as Ace settled onto a grimy stool.

Eyeing the Guardian for a moment, the young man finally asked, “What are you drinking, Hunter?”

Ace held up two fingers and answered, “Porters.”

“It never cracks me up to see an Exo drink,” the bartender chuckled, “At least you have good taste.”

“Oh? You like yours dark as well?” Ace always enjoyed meeting a fellow fan of the dark beer.

The next few minutes passed quite enjoyably for the Guardian. He managed to finish off the first beer pretty quickly, but left the second one untouched. As the barkeep described in great detail how the Porter brewed by his father was superior to that of their competitors across the street, Ace heard the arrival of another patron. 

“Hey, Bryce,” a female voice greeted, “the usual.”

The bartender reached for a whiskey bottle and small glass. “Hey, Keira. How goes it?”

Ace turned and saw a female Human, cloaked in a traditional Hunter cloak, step up to the bar and accept the glass. “Hunter,” he nodded in greeting.

Keira turned and raised her glass and tipped it slightly, “Hunter.”

Ace reached into a pocket and produced a smaller cube of Glimmer. “I’m buying this round,” he said as he set the cube on the bar.

Raising an eyebrow, the female Hunter responded, “Oh yeah? And why should I let you buy my drink?”

“Ikora said that I should come talk with you.”

With a laugh, Keira grabbed Ace’s second drink and turned to the tables at the far end of the room. “Come have a seat. And one more of each, Bryce!” she called out over her shoulder. 

Ace dropped a second cube of Glimmer on the bar next to the first before standing up and walking over to the table. Keira slid the beer over to Ace as he sat. He picked up the glass and took an appreciative sip while she tasted hers. When he was enjoying a delicious meal or drink, Ace never experienced any of the Exo conflict that often plagued him. He enjoyed the flavors and was extremely grateful that he could experience them. The Exo took a second pull.

As he set the glass down, Keira locked eyes with him and asked, “How many times have you died, Hunter?”


	20. COUNSEL

“I went through the same crisis myself,” Keira explained, “It was a few decades ago. Maybe a couple centuries. It’s hard to tell.”

Ace said nothing. He didn’t want to risk interrupting this kindred spirit.

“I think I struggled with it for a few years before I had the courage to talk to anyone about it. Sadly, Andal Brask wasn’t great at counseling,” she snorted before taking a sip from her glass, “Fortunately, the man knew when he wasn’t cut out for a job. He sent me across the table to talk to Ikora.”

Keira paused as the memory played out in her mind. Ace wondered if she experienced the same flashbacks of memory that he did. At least, he assumed that she was reliving that moment as she went silent.

After a short moment, Keira looked back to Ace, “Ikora didn’t really talk much. She simply asked a lot of questions. And that’s what I do when she sends a Guardian to come see me. I ask questions.”

Despite having a mechanical throat and speech processor, Ace felt he needed to take a drink to wet his throat before replying, “What kind of questions?”

“The kind that the answer doesn’t matter.” Confusion played clearly across Ace’s face. “Think about it, Hunter. What question did I ask that made you really STOP and THINK?”

“How many times have you died?” he answered.

Keira took another swallow. Her glass was half empty. “Right. But does the answer to that question really matter?”

“Of course it does. We fight and we die. Some of us go out there and die their final death.”

“But it’s not the final death that you are worried about, is it?” she countered.

Ace conceded the point, “No, I am not worried about that. But the fact that we get killed and have to be resurrected all the time...” he trailed off.

“But does it matter how many times it has happened? Why does it bother you how many times you have died?” her glass was empty. She slid her second whiskey into place. 

“Of course it matters.” Despite feeling impassioned, Ace’s tone remained calm. “I can’t count how many times I have been killed out there.”

“It isn’t that what bothers you. It’s what death brings that bothers you. What does death bring?”

He struggled to answer. Ace had been able to begin to explain to Ikora earlier, but that moment had passed. He floundered trying to find the words he needed. Ace finished his Porter with a large pull of his glass. Keira slid his replacement beer into the empty drink’s spot.

“The rough thing about being an Exo is that you can’t get drunk,” she smiled wryly, “If you could, this would go much easier. I’d get you sauced up and you’d find the words.”

“I’m tired,” Ace announced suddenly. Keira sat upright slowly and nodded. Ace continued, “I’m tired of hurting. Every time I die, it hurts so bad before death finally makes it go away. Some times, it feels like I’m suffering for hours before I can finally die and get rezzed by Mal.”

“What is the worst death you have experienced?”

Ace couldn’t control the involuntary wince that accompanied the memory. “It’s hard to tell,” he lied, “I mean, they’re all pretty much the same. I get shot and it hurts like hell.”

Keira let the lie pass, “And since we don’t truly die, we can just get back up so that we can get shot again.”

Ace found himself staring into his glass. Foam traced the perimeter of the top of his drink. The light color of the foam contrasted the deep, dark brown of the beer. The smell coming up from the glass was earthy with a hint of cocoa.

“We have been made to experience pain and suffering that would kill a normal person,” Keira continued, “We endure things that no one was meant to experience more than once.”

Ace looked up into Keira’s face. When they first sat down, she had pushed back her hood to reveal a thick mane of wavy, brown hair. The hair framed her face and matched the color of her eyes. He looked into those eyes and almost pleaded, “How?”

Keira considered her response for a moment, “It depends. Some Guardians drink. I don’t recommend chemical dependency, though. It ruins your aim and WILL lead to your final death our there in the Wild.”

Ace was able to chuckle slightly, “Exos are exempt from chemical dependency.”

Keira raised her drink with a laugh at that. Ace lifted his and the two tapped glasses. After a sip, Keira replied, “Very good point. So you need something better. You need a reason.”

Ace cocked his head to the side as he considered the other Hunter. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, you need to find a reason to make the suffering worthwhile,” Keira quietly explained, “Something that you look forward to every time you come back in from the Wild. Or something that really drives you to go out there in the first place. Something that you would be protecting with your life every time you walk into danger.”

“But I don’t-“

“I know you don’t,” she interrupted, “That’s why you’re here. If you already had it, we wouldn’t be having this conversation, would we?”


	21. MOTIVATION

“I never got your name,” the Hunter asked after a couple moments of silence.

“AC-013, but I prefer ‘Ace’.”

Keira raised an eyebrow, inviting more information. Ace raised his arm and removed his vambrace to reveal the serial number stamp. “Interesting. I don’t claim to be an expert on Exos, but I don’t think something like that is normal, is it?”

With a dismissive shrug, Ace cinched the armor piece back into place. “No, it’s not. But no one has any idea what it means.”

“Well, that’s not why we’re here anyway,” Keira dismissed the topic, “Ace. I am Keira. Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you, Keira.” They exchanged Hunter salutes; two fingers tapped to the forehead, near the temple. “So what is it that you found?”

Keira considered her response carefully before answering, “I think it best that you find what works for you before you go looking into what worked for someone else.”

Deflated, Ace sat deeper into his seat.

“Let’s ask a few more questions before you give up, though,” Keira warned cheerfully. “Do you have any friends?”

Ace pondered the question. There were several Guardians that he had worked with in the past and enjoyed the company of, but those instances were always temporary and Ace never felt compelled to foster a deeper relationship. They were mostly enjoyable partnerships. Cayde-6 was the closest thing he could consider to be a friend, but even that relationship had the Guardian/Vanguard dynamic interfering with it. He knew that there was an unspoken reason why he didn’t foster friendships with fellow Guardians; he had avenged the final death of too many to allow a friendship.

“We Guardians don’t often make friends,” Keira said softly into her glass. Ace almost didn’t hear her.

“Maybe that’s why Hawthorne is always going on and on about that ‘clan’ idea of hers,” Ace mused. He had spoken with her many times as he ran missions to help keep the EDZ area of Earth manageable. She would inevitably ask the Exo if he had joined a clan yet.

“Hey, it’s not a terrible idea,” Keira replied.

“I didn’t say that I think it is. Just that I can finally see why she believes it to be so important. Do you think she knew that we Guardians would need that kind of relationship?”

“I doubt that she was aiming to help Guardians like you and I,” Keira laughed as she drained her glass, “More like the common sense idea that having a regular crew of folks you can rely on to help out when you need help just makes sense.”

“So, do you think I should start up one of those groups of hers?” Ace asked.

“I don’t know. Do you want to join one?”

Ace was quiet.

“I think you would do best to spend some time getting to know some non Guardians. Go out and patrol the populated areas outside the City,” Keira suggested.

“Like the Farm?” Ace considered the thought with a heavy draw from the remainder of his beer.

“There are a lot of places like the Farm out there. Humanity refuses to be contained.”

“What do you expect me to find out there?”

“A start,” Keira announced, “You’ll get a reminder of why we Guardians are needed. Why YOU are needed. After you understand that, you’ll be ready to forge some real friendships.”

“Should I get a fire team together to go on these patrols?” Ace asked.

Keira held up a hand to quell that line of reasoning, “I’m not going to give you advice like that. However you want to go about getting yourself out there, do it. Just don’t be closed to any and all possibilities.”

“A fire team seems like a logical way to start.”

“It is,” Keira answered, “Ace, I can’t tell you who to bring in to your life. I can only tell you that having the right people around you,” Ace noticed that Keira’s eyes drifted to the side and rested briefly on the bartender, “can save you.”

“So, populated areas outside of the City,” Ace paused, “Non Guardians.”

“Like I said, be open to any possibility. After all, there is a very good reason why the Traveler created Guardians. Some of us forget that.”


	22. PROLOGUE: RANDOM MOMENT 01

A notification chimed softly in Ace’s ear. Queuing up his in-helmet computer to display the message, the Hunter asked, “What’s this?”

“Looks like a bounty,” Mal observed from his incorporeal residence within the Guardian, “Pretty standard stuff, from what I can see.”

“I know that!” Ace snorted, “I mean, look at what they’re offering as payment!”

“Oh! Nice. We could use a few more Cores!”

“Yeah, but can you believe that someone is willing to just GIVE away a Core like this?” Ace didn’t bother to hide his disbelief. He had been struggling to get his hands on the elusive catalysts for the last two weeks.

“Well, they ARE looking for someone to obtain field data in pretty dangerous conditions,” his ghost countered. 

Ace wouldn’t relent, “Still, you know how hard it is to get our hands on one of these! How the hell do they have Cores on hand enough to hand out as payment?”

“Well, Potential exists in all things, just like the Light. It is possible that someone has set up a large scale system similar to what us ghosts in the field do.”

“Yeah, but I am curious, how did you manage to pull a Core out of that hand cannon we scrapped yesterday?”

“That’s the thing, Ace, I didn’t. At least, not just that weapon. It’s hard to do, but once Sundance showed me how to do it, I figured it out,” Mal explained, “When you have me dismantle something, I try to siphon off as much Potential as I can and store it away. Once I have enough, I am able to compress all of it into a Core for you.”

Ace considered the concept for a minute before responding, “So, you think someone out there is just spending their time breaking down gear and siphoning all day long?”

“Well, it would be the most logical way to create enough Cores to pay several Guardians for testing out combat scenarios,” Mal chuckled at his next thought, “Perhaps they have contracted a setup of Guardianless ghosts to form an assembly line!”

Ace snorted, “Maybe we finally figured out the mystery behind what Rahool does with all of those engrams that we bring to him.”

Mal didn’t comment.

“So, let’s see what they want...” Ace paused as he focused on the details of the bounty, “Looks like one of the weapon foundries is looking for field testing in a combat zone. They’ve got permission from Zavala to request data mined from Strike performance logs. This thing is legit!”

“Well, we do need more Cores. Let me check Vanguardnet,” Mal paused a moment, “There is a team of two that are currently requesting another Guardian to help them assist Failsafe. She has a major Cabal incursion that has her exceptionally worried.”

Ace sighed. He was not a fan of joining up with unknown Guardians in the field. Many times, he felt held back or hampered by unexpected actions taken by his temporary fire team. “Can’t we just handle this problem on our own?”

“I don’t think Zavala would approve. And the bounty needs to be cleared by him.”

With another heavy sigh, Ace replied, “Fine. Ask if we can join them.”

“Done.” A moment later, “And accepted. They apparently want to get the mission started. Their ghost must have been monitoring the net pretty closely to get back so quickly.”

“Hey, isn’t this mission on Nessus?” Ace asked suddenly.

“It is.”

“I think Spider was looking for someone to hunt down a Hydra there,” Ace accessed his computer and pulled up the information, “Here it is. ‘Episkeptis’. And Spider is offering a Core for this escapee!”

Mal made no attempt at all to his his contempt for the Fallen mob boss, “I’m not at all surprised that filthy thing has managed to get his hands on some Cores.”

“If we are lucky, we may be able to kill two birds with one stone,” Ace remarked excitedly.

“That would be nice,” Mal agreed, “The other two Guardians are asking if you are ready to go. They’ve already outfitted themselves for this mission and were just waiting for a third Guardian to sign on. They’re ready to go whenever you are.”

“Fire up the transmat and let’s go.”


End file.
